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Book 2 5 v^o- 

Copyright N° 

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AN HONOR GIRL 




































































































































































































































































































































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Amy eagerly read the card tied to the roses. — Page 13. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


BY 

EVELYN RAYMOND 


ILLUSTRATED BY BERTHA G. DAVIDSON 



BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD 
1904 


LIBRARY nf OONSRESS 
TVyo Cosies Received 

JUL 30 1904 

Cooyrfsrht Entry 

&h a,. 7^- 1°\D if 

CLASS CL.‘ XXo. No. 

S U Cj I 

COPY B 1 



Published, August, 1904 
Copyright, 1904, by Lee and Shepard 

^4// rights reserved 

An Honor Girl 



Berwick & Smith Co. 
Ilorwoofe press 
Norwood, Mass. 

U. S. A. 


c c 
c c c 




CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

One Commencement . 

. 



PAGE 

9 

II. 

The Cat and the Roses . 


• 


22 

III. 

The Uninvited 


• 


36 

IV. 

An Averted Tragedy 


• 

• 

48 

V. 

In the Silence of the Night 

• 

• 

63 

VI. 

The Island 



• 

79 

VII. 

A Day and Its Ending 

- 



95 

VIII. 

The Valley of Decision . 




109 

IX. 

The Professor . 


• 


126 

X. 

The Plain Speech of a Friend 

• 


140 

XI. 

At the Stock Farm 

• 

• 


155 

XII. 

The Use of a Talent 

• 



168 

XIII. 

Anxieties .... 




186 

XIV. 

A Professor of Economics 




200 

XV. 

Some of the Faculty 

• 



216 

XVI. 

Reunions .... 

• 



229 

XVII. 

A Business Call 

• 



246 

XVIII. 

Facing the Situation 

• 

• 


259 

XIX. 

Concerning Madam 

• 

• 


273 

XX. 

Farmer Growden’s Offer 

• 

• 


287 

XXI. 

The Way It Ended . 




300 


e*- 


5 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 


Amy eagerly read the card tied to the roses. 

( Frontispiece ) • 

Seated in a child’s rocking-chair, a gingham 

apron tied under his chin 

Her brother was beside her, seizing Jean- 
nette’s struggling arms 

“ Why, this isn’t rowing at all ! ” . . . . 

“ Let’s rest a few minutes and let the horses 

drink.” 

A heavy hand clutched her shoulder fiercely . 

“ Why, it’s Nugent, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Oh, Madam, you have done all this for me !” 
cried the lad 


38 

49 

88 

147 
185 'Z 
253 ' 

305 - 



















































































































































































83B ? isj 
















AN HONOR GIRL 


CHAPTER I 

ONE COMMENCEMENT 

On that warm June evening the large dress- 
ing room of the Music Hall was filled with 
white-gowned girls, chattering after the man- 
ner of their kind, while they waited for Com- 
mencement exercises to begin. Florists’ mes- 
sengers were continually arriving with some 
fragrant tribute to a graduate and, as a partic- 
ularly small boy staggered in with a particu- 
larly large armful of American Beauties, Har- 
riet Lord exclaimed : 

“ Oh ! what roses ! Whose ? ” 

“ Amy Barnard’s, of course. I can guess 
that without looking at the card,” answered 
Edna Merton. 

“ I don’t know why ‘ of course.’ Seems as 
if she’d had her share.” 

“ The success of success, I suppose. The 


9 


10 


AN HONOR GIRL 


less one needs the more one gets. Now I ” 

Edna caught a mammoth bunch of pink and 
white peonies from the long table which was 
heaped with bouquets, and extended it at arm’s 
length. 

“ Who sent it, Ned? ” 

“ Who but I, myself ? ” 

“ You didn’t!” 

“ Indeed, I did. Do you imagine I’d be the 
only bloomless maiden in the procession? No, 
I thank you.” 

“ But why peonies, of all flowers? ” 

“ Cheapest. Fact. I ransacked every mar- 
ket in the town, for I couldn’t afford a 
florist’s shop even to one faded carnation, and 
in these I secured the biggest bargain for the 
money. So the dealer told me and so I believe. 
Fifty cents that posy cost me, and I call it 
‘ sweet pretty.’ Or if I don’t the man did.” 

“ But, Edna, with your allowance, you 
ought to be ashamed.” 

“ Yes, Mistress Harriet, I ought to be 
ashamed most of the time, only I forget it. 
Ah! here she comes! Isn’t she just too sweet 
for words ? ” 

A carriage had drawn up before the wide 


ONE COMMENCEMENT 


II 


entrance and from it now descended a lady 
and gentleman, a girl in white, and an awk- 
ward youth in evening clothes which he wore 
with the discomfort of a first appearance in 
such attire. The girl joined her mates in the 
dressing room, but the others passed through 
the lobby and were assigned to forward seats 
in the auditorium. 

“ Oh, Amy ! How dear you look ! ” 

“ That’s the true word for you, Miss Lord ! 
Observe the get-up of that organdie. This 
takes the crispness off my vanity,” said merry 
Edna, stretching out her own rumpled skirts 
and viewing them with a comical expression. 

Amy laughed and clasped her friend’s waist 
affectionately. “ But you’re looking lovely, 
dear, and I dare say your clothes cost far more 
than mine. Oh ! what heaps of flowers. More 
than I’ve ever seen at any Commencement. 
Isn’t it fine to have our class so far ahead of 
all the others? I’m so proud of it.” 

“ And it’s so proud of you. But speaking of 
flowers — how’s this ? ” demanded Edna, again 
seizing her peonies and swinging them about in 
reckless disregard of her neighbors’ ribbons 
and ruffles. 


12 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ They’re beautiful — to paint.” 

“ And they’re designed to ‘ paint the lily.’ I 
being the lily. The lily is tall and heads the 
procession, but the peonies shall head the lily. 
Thus! But it’s too bad to rouse your envy, 
poor Amy. Come see your own insignificant 
bouquets.” 

“Have I any? I didn’t expect them; 

else ” She hesitated, remembering with 

regret the money expended on the carnations 
she had brought with her. Then she reflected 
that it was the only time she would be gradu- 
ated and that it had given her mother pleasure 
to furnish her with the flowers, even at the 
cost of self-denial. 

A bevy of classmates gathered about her, 
their pride and favorite, and one thrust under 
her nose a cluster of white roses, explaining : 

“ Mrs. Ripley.” 

“ The minister’s wife? How kind.” 

“ Very; yet don’t feel too elated. She’s sent 
the same to each of us who belongs to her hus- 
band’s church. Now these! If the messenger 
boy had been a trifle smaller and the roses a 
trifle heavier there’d have been an ambulance 
call : 4 Crushed to death ! ’ ” 


ONE COMMENCEMENT 


13 

Amy eagerly read the card tied to the roses, 
and, in amazement, cried out: 

“ My brother Nugent! The darling, ex- 
travagant boy ! However did he do it ! ” 

“ How could he help doing it for such a 
sister ? ” 

“ Easily enough. With his small salary and 
his own expenses this means positive self-sac- 
rifice. And he’s come to our Commencement, 
too, though he hates all such affairs. Well, I 
was happy before, but now I’m overflowing. 
I must hug somebody.” 

Away went the roses upon the table and 
around the waist of the girl nearest went 
Amy’s arms. But these were promptly loosed 
as a sarcastic voice remarked : 

“ Please excuse me from being that some- 
body.” 

“ Why, Jeannette ! I thought it was Edna. 
Beg pardon, of course, if you dislike it. But 
have you seen my flowers ? They are so many, 
from people whom I did not dream cared at 
all for me, that my head is fairly turned.” 

“ I dare say. Light ones are, easily.” 

“ Jeannette! But I forgive you. Now, 
where are yours ? ” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


14 

“ I have none.” 

“ What ? There must be some mistake. 
Have you looked ? ” 

“ No. Why should I? Nobody would re- 
member me,” with an unpleasant emphasis 
upon the “ me,” “ and I’d not buy my own 
flowers, like silly Ned.” 

Amy was chilled by the expression which 
darkened her classmate’s face and marred even 
its extraordinary beauty; but it seemed incred- 
ible that there should be no bouquets for Jean- 
nette, who had hosts of relatives, while there 
were so many for her, who had almost none. 
She turned again to the table, whence the 
ushers were rapidly removing the flowers to 
rearrange them upon the platform of the audi- 
torium, and vainly searched for even one bunch 
bearing the name of Herburn. 

By this time most of the girls had selected 
such bouquets as they wished to carry and were 
taking their assigned places in the procession, 
which Edna was to lead, with her banner and 
her peonies, providing that even Edna could 
manage two such burdens. Jeannette and 
Amy were to follow her, but Amy delayed, 
stopping an attendant to beg: 


ONE COMMENCEMENT 


15 

“ Wait, please. I must have these, and 
these, and, oh ! yes ! these.” 

The gentleman smiled as the girl measured 
her “ Beauties ” against her own slim figure, to 
find that their heavy heads rested upon her 
shoulder while the ends of their stalks dragged 
on the floor. 

“ My ! They quite eclipse poor mother’s 
delicate carnations, but they must march in the 
parade, even if they do. These other two 
bunches, of lilies and of roses, are for you, 
Jeannette.” 

However, Jeannette had now retreated to a 
window and with folded arms stood silently 
looking out. Amy crossed to her, saying : 

“ Here, partner. These are yours.” 

“ Mine!” 

Jeannette whirled about and before Amy 
could prevent her had caught the presentation 
cards and read them. Then she almost threw 
the bouquets to the floor in her impatience, 
while the disappointment that even her pride 
could not conceal showed in her averted eyes. 

Amy’s arm, that was not filled with flowers, 
went again about her partner’s waist. 

“Jeannette, why keep it up any longer? 


i6 


AN HONOR GIRL 


To-night’s the last time we shall be in class to- 
gether. I’m sorry if I ever seemed to crowd 
you or take away anything you wanted. It’s 
been an even race between us and if — please 
take these poor little blossoms and bury the 
hatchet in them.” 

“ But they were given to you.” 

“ Then they are mine — to give to you.” 

“ I would rather not. I — can’t.” 

“ And I would rather you did. You — must ! 
See? Look across to that mirror yonder. 
You are the loveliest girl in the room, dear, 
and the flowers make you perfect.” 

It was not the noblest of arguments, Amy 
felt, but time pressed and, save through her 
vanity, Jeannette seemed invulnerable. The 
mirror showed that the argument was working 
and the innocent casuist followed its ad- 
vantage. 

“ Think how monkey-like I should feel, if 
you carry none and I walk beside you loaded 
with all these.” 

“ Why do you load yourself, then? ” 

Amy held forth first one, then another of 
her bouquets. 

“ These are my mother’s ; therefore. These 


ONE COMMENCEMENT 


1 7 

are my brother’s — the first he ever gave me; 
likewise, therefore. Now, come, be good, and 
— you will be handsome ! ” 

“ Young ladies! ” 

It was the voice of authority which they had 
obeyed for the four years that lay behind them, 
and it was natural that they should obey it 
now; “ for the last time,” thought Amy sadly, 
as catching Jeannette’s hand she led that self- 
willed maiden to her place behind the leader 
and fell into step to the music which floated 
toward them from the great hall. 

Edna, the irrepressible, moved forward with 
great dignity and sweetness of bearing, yet 
found time, none the less, to whisper over her 
shoulder : 

“ Sisters, be on your guard ! The ‘ Poly ’ 
boys are yon ! ” 

The “ Poly,” otherwise Polytechnic, stu- 
dents, indeed ; and a goodly number more from 
every other school of learning in that enter- 
prising town. For the Commencements of the 
Girls’ Latin School were the prettiest of all 
which crowded the days of early June. Its 
standard was high, its graduates still in the first 
flush of youth and enthusiasm, and mostly were 


1 8 AN HONOR GIRL 

the daughters of parents who were themselves 
cultured and intellectual. 

The stage, whereon were already seated the 
faculty and guests of honor, seemed a wide 
garden of palms and towering plants, gay with 
electric lights and a foreground of the choicest 
blooms obtainable. Before it the long pro- 
cession of white-gowned maidens came to a 
brief halt; then each pair separated and pass- 
ing to the ends of the platform ascended it 
from either side, to group themselves in a 
semicircle about their instructors and friends. 

A Commencement similar to countless 
others with some slight local differences of de- 
tail. Jeannette was salutatorian and Amy 
valedictorian, as befitted their class-standing; 
though Jeannette felt that these honors should 
have been reversed, and Amy that she desired 
neither. Yet both acquitted themselves well; 
Jeannette’s stately greeting suiting her hand- 
some presence as perfectly as the gown she 
wore, while Amy’s little tender word of fare- 
well brought a mist to the eyes which gazed 
upon her. At Jeannette’s conclusion there was 
an audible “ Ah — h ! ” from the “ Poly ” boys, 
followed by a measured stamping and hand- 


ONE COMMENCEMENT 


19 

clapping, which was promptly suppressed by 
the gentlemen in charge. But when Amy’s 
voice died away in a sort of smothered sob, 
the applause of not only the students but the 
whole audience burst forth tumultuously. 

“That’s for you, darling! and you deserve 
it ! whispered Edna, with a slight quiver of 
her own lips. 

“ No. It’s for the whole school. Shh ! Pro- 
fessor Gray wants order.” 

The desired order was long in coming, but 
it came at last, and the remaining exercises 
were soon over; yet, having an agreeable sur- 
prise in store, Dr. Gray delayed the benedic- 
tion and raised his hand for further atten- 
tion. His fine face beamed and his voice was 
proud as he advanced and addressed his au- 
dience, thus: 

“ Ladies and Gentlemen : 

“ To-night I have the happiness to inform 
you that a scholarship at a leading American 
college for women has been presented to our 
school. It is a gift for which I have long 
hoped, but of which I had almost despaired. 
Even now I am forbidden to make public the 


20 


AN HONOR GIRL 


donor’s name, though I trust that this ban will 
some time be removed. The disposal of the 
scholarship has been left to me and my col- 
leagues; and, after due care and deliberation, 
we unanimously award it to our beloved vale- 
dictorian — Amy Barnard. Miss Barnard will 
kindly step forward and receive the con- 
gratulations of her school and her com- 
munity.” 

For a moment there was absolute silence; 
then Amy felt herself pushed gently toward the 
expectant professor, who took her hand and 
bowed to her with a respect that seemed odd as 
coming from him. She returned his saluta- 
tion mechanically, for as yet she realized noth- 
ing save that something wonderful and unex- 
pected had befallen her, and that the walls rang 
with a deafening uproar. 

“ Barnard ! Barnard ! Hip-hip-hooray ! 
Barnard has it ! Three cheers for Latin Amy ! 
’Rah, ’rah ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’R-A-H! ” 

The “ Poly ” boys began it, of course, and 
ended it, for that matter. As was quite nat- 
ural, since the two school playgrounds ad- 
joined each other, and there was always 


ONE COMMENCEMENT 2 1 

friendly rivalry — and courtesy — between them. 
But there were grown-up voices cheering, also, 
for the honor that had come to their young 
townswoman was an honor to them all. 

Then the silence of dismissal, the kisses and 
hand-clasps of classmates, the tender embrace 
of a father, the hearty slap on the shoulder and 
“ Good enough, girlie ! ” of Nugent, and Amy 
was in the carriage once more speeding home- 
ward. 

Her heart was as full of beautiful dreams as 
her arms of roses, and she was trying to realize 
to the fullest the future which opened before 
her. 

“ All my life Tve longed for it, this college 
course, this higher education, this chance in 
the world. But I dared not expect it — how 
dared I ? for it’s been all my parents could do 
to give me these last four years — there’s so lit- 
tle money in their pockets. Now — it’s come, 
it’s come ! ” 

Then the carriage stopped before their own 
gate, Amy sprang out, and, turning, saw her 
mother’s face. 


CHAPTER II 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 

The street lamp opposite the gate revealed 
that face with clear distinctness and its ex- 
pression astonished Amy. For it was an ex- 
pression of bewilderment and anxiety, whereas 
the daughter felt it should have shown but 
pride and happiness. 

“ Why, mother! What ” 

But the perplexity had already vanished and 
Mrs. Barnard’s smile was radiant as she ex- 
claimed : 

“ Take care, Nugent ! This precious di- 
ploma is worth more than all these flowers, 
lovely as they are.” 

Then she held the white-ribboned parchment 
high above her head, out of reach of any crush- 
ing blossoms, as her son clumsily gathered 
the bouquets from her lap and started for the 
house. 

A moment later they were all in the little 


22 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


23 

parlor, realizing that the great event was over, 
and mentally “ getting their breath,” as Amy 
observed. Realizing, too, the fatigue of emo- 
tional excitement, they heaped their flowers 
upon the table and each dropped into a con- 
venient chair to rest and talk it over. Mrs. 
Barnard still retained the rolled diploma and 
sat with it held caressingly against her cheek, 
though her eyes had an absent look and her 
thoughts were not upon the scene about her. 

Mr. Barnard broke the brief silence : 
“ Well, well, daughter, I’m proud of you. To 
think that my own little girl carried off first 
honors! Well, well.” 

“ Your valedictory was real good, Sis, but 
you mumbled a good deal. Anybody who’s 
going to speak in public ought to do it so folks 
could understand.” 

Amy smiled. “ Thank you, Nugent. Be- 
fore I pose as an orator I’ll take lessons in elo- 
cution. This time caught me unaware, you 
see.” 

“ Did you have any idea what Professor 
Gray was going to spring on you at the end ? ” 

“ Not the slightest. Nobody did, I fancy. 
Even yet it seems like a dream.” 


24 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ How’d you feel when he called you up 
front, eh?” 

“ Didn’t feel at all. Just was numb and stu- 
pid. Seemed as if I were walking on some 
other girl’s feet when Edna pushed me for- 
ward.” 

“ Likely you were. Jeannette Herburn’s, no 
doubt.” 

“ Poor Jeannette ! She’s never liked me, and 
this will make things worse. I’m sorry. I 
don’t see why whoever gave one scholarship 
couldn’t have given two, so she could go.” 

Mrs. Barnard rose rather hastily. 

“ Come, come, my dears. It’s late and there 
are all these flowers to take care of. Nugent, 
please bring two or three large pitchers and 
pans to the pantry and fill them with water. 
Amy, I’ll help you off with that dress before 
we attempt to fix the bouquets. Ah ! my 
daughter, I’m proud of you, too. Proud 
that you should have won the love of all these 
givers. There must be a dozen, at least, and 
the air is heavy with so much sweetness.” 

“ Better close only the outside shutters and 
leave the windows open,” suggested Mr. Bar- 
nard, as he went about locking up. 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


25 

When, at a much later hour than common, 
the house was finally still, Amy yet lay long 
awake, restless and excited. 

“ Must be ‘ rose leaves ’ in this bed ! Else I 
should have been asleep the moment I 
touched it, for I’m very tired. Rose leaves 
of too great success and too much flattery. I 
can’t help thinking, though, how odd it was. 
Every one of my family said : ‘ I’m proud,’ 
but not one said : ‘ I’m glad.’ Maybe they 
didn’t think it necessary and that I’d take it 
for granted. Anyway, I’m glad — glad — 
glad ! That higher education — mine, mine, 
mine. After school the college; after college — 
who can guess how wise and great I may grow 
to be ? ” 

Once started on this theme the dreams of 
the ambitious girl wandered far afield, and 
these waking dreams merged into those of 
sleep; where she seemed herself to be the cen- 
tral figure of an endless succession of Com- 
mencements, each more brilliant than the 
other; till in a jumble of ribbons and gossamer 
gowns, of cheers and jubilant music, of bloom- 
ing plants and flaming lights, she passed into 
the sounder slumber that was natural to her. 


2 6 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Well, dear, I must wake you at last. The 
breakfast positively will not keep fresh any 
longer and your flowers need attention. ,, 

Amy sat up and rubbed her eyes. 

“ What time is it ? ” 

“ Nine o’clock.” 

“ Why, mother ! Then I shall be late ! Oh ! 
I forgot. I shall never be late again. I de- 
clare, I thought I should be so glad about that 
and I’m not. I’m sorry. Dear old Latin 
School ! I believe I love its very walls.” 

“ I can understand that. They’ve been four 
happy, care-free years you’ve spent among 
them. They ended in a little burst of glory, 
too, and that will be something good to re- 
member. Now — vacation and — home.” 

“ I shall love that, as well, for a time. 
Then more school, more study, more — oh, 
mother! Isn’t it splendid to be alive and all 
that richness stretching out before one? I 
am so happy, so happy ! ” 

“ Yes, dear. I understand,” again re- 
sponded the mother. 

But to the daughter there seemed some- 
thing missing in the tone, a lessening of the 
sympathy which had always met her own 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


27 

moods. Yet how could that be since they were 
all in all to each other and the joy of one had 
meant the joy of the other? Then she smiled, 
whimsically : 

“ I wonder, motherkin, if a body can get a 
bit too much philosophy into one’s head, at 
sixteen ? or if being an ‘ honor girl ’ sets one 
prying into — into her insides too much? All 
sorts of notions were in my mind last night 
and they’re popping up again this morning. A 
why — why — why about everything. Why 
you, nor father, nor even Nugent, said you 
were glad about the scholarship, for instance.” 

“ Foolish child. A sensible breakfast will 
regulate both your mental and material ‘ in- 
sides,’ as you so inelegantly express yourself. 
A fragment of ‘ higher education,’ I suppose.” 

“ Mother! You, of all people, to turn sar- 
castic ! ” 

“ Come. Don’t dawdle. There’s no sar- 
casm in that. It’s a busy morning and Rebecca 
has a ‘ misery ’ again.” 

Mrs. Barnard went smilingly away and Amy 
dawdled no more. Rebecca was the one ser- 
vant of their household; a faithful and ca- 
pable colored woman, but arbitrary as many 


28 


AN HONOR GIRL 


capable persons are. For the past year she and 
her “ miseries ” had led Mrs. Barnard an un- 
certain life, the mistress never knowing just 
when an attack of some sort would keep Re- 
becca at her own cottage, whither she went 
of nights, or if she did appear in the morning 
whether she would be of much assistance. 

“ Oh ! dear ! How provoking ! I know 
mother had ordered strawberries for canning 
to-day, and needs Becky more than usual. It 
won’t make things any pleasanter to have me 
keep breakfast behind, either, even though it’s 
but one to serve. Well, I’ll try to lend a hand. 
A girl who can win first honor ought to be 
capable of hulling strawberries.” 

Hurrying to the dining room she made 
short work of her belated meal and set herself 
to clearing the table. At which Becky smiled, 
entering to do that task herself, yet also 
grumbled : 

“ Well, honey, ’low steppin’ round’s good 
for young legs. Won’t hurt you none to 
know how victuals is handled.” 

“ Oh, Rebecca! Victuals! What an un- 
pleasant word. So suggestive of ‘ cold ’ and 
mendicancy. How can you ? Don’t you 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


29 

know I’m a * sweet girl graduate ’ and should 
be treated delicately? ” 

“ Hey ? What’s that ? Them was good 
victuals and they wasn’t cold. I kept ’em hot 
myself in the warm oven. And I don’t know 
nothing ’bout mendicatin’, ’less that’s what 
your poor ma’s doing most the ’during time. 
And I ’low now you’ve got done studying all 
them books you’ll be taking the needle outen 
her hands into your own. It cert’nly is fine 
for all we Barnards you finished all them out- 
going, day after day. Now I hope you’ll get 
sense into you and grow up a woman.” 

They were both steadily clearing away and 
setting the pleasant room to rights, Amy sing- 
ing in a low tone and Becky talking in a loud 
one, when Mrs. Barnard looked in and re- 
marked : 

“ Why, my darling ! I didn’t intend you 
should begin to work this very first morning. 
Except, of course, to arrange your flowers and 
not to hinder us.” 

“ But I want to work, motherkin. I want to 
do every single thing I can to rest you while — 
while I am at home. For four years I’ve done 
nothing but study, and a change of programme 


AN HONOR GIRL 


30 

will be good for us both. Three months goes 
so quickly, and Wellesley — why, mother ! ” 
Again that strange expression was on the 
mother’s face and, as if to hide it, she turned 
toward the kitchen. 

“ I’m hulling the berries out on the back 
porch. You’ll find me there if you care to 
come.” 

“ Of course I’m coming, to help you. I’ll 
be quick with the flowers.” 

But the girl sang no more. Indeed, she be- 
came so preoccupied that she forgot to “ brush 
the crumbs,” as she had promised Rebecca, 
and went away leaving the dustpan in the mid- 
dle of the floor. Where, coming into the 
darkened room from the sunshine without, Nu- 
gent promptly stumbled over it and bruised his 
shin against a misplaced chair. 

“ Hang it ! What does that old Becky mean, 
setting man-traps about, like this ! ” 

From the adjoining pantry Amy called: 

“ Boy-trap, not man-trap, laddie dear, and I 
wish you would hang it, for I forgot to. 
’Cause ’twas young Amy, not old Becky, who 
left it there. Come in and help me, will you? ” 
“ Can’t. I’m going fishing. Have you seen 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


31 


my rod anywhere ?” Yet he did enter the 
pantry and stood for a moment regarding his 
roses, whose stems she was clipping and plac- 
ing in a great glass vase. “ Kept pretty fresh, 
didn’t they? ” 

“ Indeed, they did. And I didn’t have half 
a chance to tell you last night how much I love 
you for giving them. Only, Nugent, I felt just 
a trifle sorry you should have spent so much 
money for me. ‘ American Beauties ’ cost 
lots, don’t they ? ” 

“ Never look a gift horse in the mouth, 
Amy. But say, have you seen my tackle ? ” 

“ No. I wish I had. Hark! Who’s 
that?” 

“All creation, I should say. A crowd of 
your girls. Don’t let them come in here. 
Amy! I say don’t you let them come in here! 
Amy! ” 

But he was too late. His sister had sped 
across the dining room and opened the long 
blinds which gave upon the piazza, and 
through this window a half-dozen or more of 
Amy’s classmates had entered, laughing, ex- 
plaining, questioning, all in one breath. To 
escape them was impossible unless he were 


AN HONOR GIRL 


32 

willing to be seen running away or shut him- 
self within the pantry. 

He chose the latter alternative and closed 
the door with such energy that the china rat- 
tled on the shelves ; and with such careless haste 
that his coat caught on the thorns of his own 
roses. Turning back to cast one anxious 
glance upon the narrow, fast-barred window, 
his own movement precipitated a catastrophe. 

Crash! Splash! The rattle of breaking 
glass, a growl of impatience. 

Every girl in the outer room was stricken si- 
lent, then Amy sped pantry- ward, crying : 

“ My flowers ! My vases ! It’s that dread- 
ful cat of Rebecca’s ! ” For she had supposed, 
so far as she thought at all about it, that her 
brother had disappeared at first sound of her 
friends’ voices. He “ hated girls ” and 
avoided them consistently. 

Then she swung the door wide and there he 
stood, furious, scarlet of face, and with the 
awkward angles of his figure accentuated by 
the predicament in which he found himself. 
As Rebecca frequently remarked : “ Our Nu- 
gent has the makings of a man in him, if he 
ever quits growin’,” but at the present stage of 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


33 

his existence these “ makings ” did not fit each 
other very gracefully. 

“ Oh ! what a pretty cat ! ” cried Edna, fol- 
lowing close on Amy’s heels. 

“My! See the cat! Can the cat run? 
Yes, the cat can run,” echoed Molly Sargent; 
both girls speaking with more fun than 
malice. 

“ Does the cat bite and scratch ? The cat 
will bite and scratch — if it gets a chance,” 
tossed Edna back again. 

“ Girls, stop ! You shall not be so horrid ! ” 
pleaded Amy, as sorry for her brother’s mis- 
hap as for her broken vase. But they held 
the door ajar and her single strength was un- 
equal to theirs. 

By this time Nugent was able to see the ab- 
surd side of the affair and to retaliate in some 
sort. Seizing a monster “ Beauty ” he threw 
it straight at Edna, his chief tormentor, who 
caught it, pricked her fingers, screamed, and 
returned the charge. 

Then and there was fought a “ War of the 
Roses,” with such spirit of devastation that 
when it was ended and the conquered “ Cat ” 
forced to beat a retreat through the very ranks 


AN HONOR GIRL 


34 

of his enemies, there remained of poor Amy's 
lovely graduation flowers but broken stems and 
scattered petals. 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” was all she could say, and the 
tears were very near her eyes as she gazed upon 
the ruins about her. 

The fun was all over and Edna full of self- 
reproach. “ Amy, Amy, what shall I do to 
make amends? It's all my fault — I am such 
a simpleton! Forever acting first and think- 
ing second. And what a looking room we've 
made. Come, girls. At least we can carry 
away the debris. But did ever anybody see 
such a silly boy as Nugent Barnard? Afraid 
of just plain girls. Come on, Molly. You 
carry the rest of these 4 Beauty ' stems. 
They’re the thorniest and you and I deserve 
the worst.” 

They went at the task with a will, even Amy 
assisting, if somewhat sadly, and when even 
the last petal had been gathered into the lifted 
skirts, she marshaled her forces: 

“ This way, to the garbage-box.” 

“ Yet they were so beautiful, only last night, 
and we so envious of you, pet,” sympathized 
Harriet Lord. 


THE CAT AND THE ROSES 


35 

Even now, though most sincerely sorry for 
her behavior, Edna could not restrain her non- 
sense and burst into the melody “ See the Con- 
quering Hero Comes,” and, instantly, every 
fragment-laden maid in the procession piped 
an accompaniment. 

As they came round the corner of the house 
Mrs. Barnard looked up from her seat on the 
back porch, under its drapery of vines, and 
nearly dropped her dish of berries. 

“ Why, Amy — Edna, what is this? ” 

“ It’s ” began her daughter. 

“ It's/’ interrupted the penitent Edna, “ an 
ashamed set of girls, who came to propose a 
picnic, but were attacked by a Cat. The Cat 
is on your porch roof this minute, and if it 
doesn’t come down at once, and help us help 
you hull your strawberries, it will get its name 
and its picture in the Warden Chronicle. The 
Cat knows this is true.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE UNINVITED 

The “Cat” did know it was true. The 
Warden Chronicle was a lively little news- 
paper published and edited by a “ picked ” 
staff from the rolls of the Latin and Polytech- 
nic schools. Originally intended for the stu- 
dents only, it was now quite liberally patron- 
ized by older friends of these young people, 
and Edna was editor-in-chief. Her office was 
by election and held over for another year, 
and the next issue would appear on the follow- 
ing Tuesday. 

There was one thing which Nugent feared 
more than girls, and that was ridicule. De- 
spite his assertion that he didn’t care, and his 
rather ostentatious display of indifference, he 
did care very greatly for the good opinion of 
others and was painfully conscious of his own 
shortcomings. He was but two years older 
than Amy, yet his height was already six feet, 
36 


THE UNINVITED 


37 

and, Rebecca was saying, “ he ain’t done got 
his full growth yet.” 

Peeping over the edge of the porch roof, 
whither he had retreated for safety, he asked : 

“ If I come down and help will you promise 
me to keep the thing out of that horrid sheet? ” 

Edna glanced about the clothes-yard. “ I 
see no sheets, handsome or horrid. Mrs. Bar- 
nard is too good a housekeeper to have her 
4 wash ’ out on a Friday.” 

“ Will you promise? ” 

“ You’d better come down by intention than 
slip down off that inclined plane and break 
your neck.” 

“ Promise ? ” 

“ If you will.” 

“ What?” 

“ That you put yourself under our orders 
until all these berries are hulled.” 

“ Honor?” 

“ Honor. Girls, you witness.” 

Whereupon Nugent hastily descended from 
his slippery perch, bringing a goodly portion 
of grape-vine with him, and landing so unex- 
pectedly amid the group that it hastily scat- 
tered to give him room. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


38 

“ Here,” said Edna, and deposited her owil 
armful of rubbish within his. “ Now, Har- 
riet. Hurl your green indignity upon our 
vanquished foe.” 

They loaded him mercilessly, till not even 
his tall head was visible behind the heaped- 
up branches, he standing like a wooden image 
to receive his unwelcome burden. When the 
last rose-branch was piled upon him, he was 
ordered : 

“ Right about, face.” 

To his own surprise he was entering into the 
spirit of the moment and wheeled around with 
soldierly precision. 

“ Behind my chariot, prisoner ! To the 
garbage-box ; forward — march ! ” 

Five minutes later the great fellow was do- 
cilely seated in a child’s rocking-chair, a ging- 
ham apron tied under his chin, and a big dish 
of berries in his lap. 

“ Hull.” 

He obeyed with the silence and movement 
of an automaton, while his conquerors talked 
around him, or at and about him, as their mood 
chanced. Sometimes one or other held a de- 
cayed berry to his lips, which opened and re- 



(fa o n 


Seated in a child’s rocking-chair, a gingham apron tied 
under his chin. — Page 38. 
































1 • 


























THE UNINVITED 


39 

ceived it like a trap, but all the while his great 
fingers toiled with a swiftness they found 
themselves emulating, and long before Mrs. 
Barnard could have accomplished it alone the 
task was done. 

When the last basket was emptied and the 
great dishes of glowing fruit stood ranged 
upon the table Edna took pity on the captive. 

“ Rise, Sir Cat, and receive your parole. 
Till two o’clock your time is your own. At 
two o’clock of this afternoon you will re- 
port at the domicile of one Miss Jeannette 
Herburn, Six-sixty-six Sixth Street, from 
which alliterative mansion you will escort our 
honored salutatorian, bag and basket, bundle 
and budget, part and parcel, racket and wrap, 
to the appointed picnic-grounds of Grover 
Growden’s Green Grove, foot of Grove Street, 
abutting on the river. There to conduct and 
disport yourself as seemeth our good pleas- 
ure.” 

She waved her hand and Nugent stood up, 
the picture of dismay. 

“ Oh ! I say, Edna, that’s too much. I’ve 
kept my word. Let up on a fellow, can’t 
you?” 


40 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Couldn’t.” 

“ But a picnic, of all things. Any other 
penance. I’ll give you every fish I catch to- 
day.” 

“ Wouldst see me starve? ” 

“ Amy, speak for me. Yet, no matter. I 
shan’t go.” 

He would have run from them, but they sur- 
rounded him on every side, a circle of clasped 
hands, and he hated to use force. 

“ Allow me to differ, and to inform you 
that you are not the only beast in the menag- 
erie, though we need you to complete the col- 
lection. All our cousins and our brothers, and 
our friends ” 

“ That’s all right. I’m not going. Will 
you please stand aside or must ” 

Edna dropped her arm and the circle parted 
to give him egress. “ To the victors belong — 
magnanimity. At two of the clock. Remem- 
ber the Chronicle ! 33 

There could not have been two more aston- 
ished young people in that pretty town of 
Warden than Jeannette Herburn and Nu- 
gent Barnard when, promptly at two, he 
presented himself in Sixth Street and asked 


THE UNINVITED 


41 

that young lady if she were ready for the 
picnic. 

“ Picnic? I’ve heard of none.” 

Nugent explained as far as he knew and 
with his customary awkwardness; but, as she 
listened, Jeannette’s anger rose and her cheek 
flushed. 

“ It appears to me, Mr. Barnard,” — the lad 
unconsciously straightened himself at the un- 
accustomed title — “ that our friends are play- 
ing a practical joke upon us. They did not 
believe that you would invite me or that I 
would accept. Let us disappoint them by 
doing what they did not expect. I’ll be ready 
in five minutes.” 

Jeannette was both right and wrong. She 
had never felt herself a favorite and had held 
herself disdainfully aloof from the social 
gatherings of her mates, though she was scrup- 
ulously asked to them all. Nugent’s behavior 
had been so similar to hers and so different 
from the other brothers’ that it was Amy her- 
self who had laid this pretty plan to capture 
the recalcitrant pair. She had whispered to 
Edna under cover of their berry-capping : 

“ I do so want to have him at our last class 


AN HONOR GIRL 


42 

picnic. He’d enjoy it, I know, if he’d let him- 
self. So would poor Jeannette, who’ll prob- 
ably decline if I ask her. Send him ! He can 
but fail, and if he should succeed — hur- 
rah ! ” 

So, in her character of “ victor,” Edna had 
imposed a duty which she honestly hoped 
would prove less irksome than it promised, 
and it was with real delight and the warmest 
of welcomes that Jeannette and Nugent were 
greeted by their mates already assembled in 
the grove by the river. The tables were thus 
turned so neatly that almost before she knew 
it the girl was drawn into a game of tennis 
while the lad was left to lounge unmolested 
under a tree on the bluff. From this point of 
vantage he meant soon to make his escape to a 
little cove he knew lower down the stream, 
where he kept hidden under a protecting 
bowlder his second-best rod and line. 

Meanwhile, in a shed at the edge of the 
grove, a few “ Poly boys ” were gathered. 
Being neither brothers nor cousins of the pic- 
nickers they had not been asked to join the 
merrymaking, and were intent upon revenge. 

“ If there’s anything a girl’s afraid of it’s a 


THE UNINVITED 


43 

‘tramp,’ ” said Louis Cassell; “I vote for 
‘ tramps.’ ” 

“ Go down under the bluff and smoke ’em 
out,” suggested Philip Byington. 

“ Wind’s the wrong way. How’s a ‘ Wild 
West ’ performance ? ” asked Robert Morris. 

“ Pooh ! Latin Girls aren’t as silly as 
you.” 

“ Thanks. The same to yourself. Grow- 
den’s colts, then. They’re over in that field 
beyond the lane. Cows would be better, but 
colts will do, if we get them frisky enough.” 

“ Colts have it.” 

“ ‘ Tramps.’ ” 

“ Colts and ‘ tramps.’ ” 

“ Good enough. The irresistible combina- 
tions of this show are evinced by the shrieks 
and terrors of the gentler sex! Edna Merton 
isn’t the only girl has a vocabulary of her own. 
I’m the other girl.” 

“ Never mind the vocabulary. Hurry up is 
the word. Growden’s scarecrows in his corn- 
field are just as many as ourselves. Time and 
the hour wait on the action ! ” 

“ If Grover Growden catches us he’ll make 
scarecrows enough to last all summer. I don’t 


AN HONOR GIRL 


44 

like rifling that corn-field. It’s been a lot of 
work to rig up all those things.” 

“ Pshaw ! Phil ! It was you yourself spoke 
of colts.” 

“ That’s different. We can drive the colts 
back. I couldn’t make a scarecrow to save 
me.” 

“ Needn’t try. All you’d have to do would 
be to stand upon that wall and every crow in 
sight would die of fits.” 

Philip laughed, as did his comrades, and 
offered no further objections, though he re- 
marked with emphasis: 

“ I know Mr. Grover Growden. He’s our 
neighbor, and goes around with a ‘ chip on his 
shoulder ’ most of the time. You’ll have to 
put all back as you find it or look out.” 

“ All right. You stay here and look out 
yourself while we get the rags. If you see 
anybody coming whistle three times. We’ll 
drive the colts back with us when we come, and 
you hold them at the end of the lane while we 
fix. Then we’ll fix you ! ” 

Philip meant to keep watch, but forgot it. 
As usual he had an interesting book in his 
pocket and knew nothing beyond its pages 


THE UNINVITED 


45 

until the clatter of horse-hoofs startled him to 
his post of keeping the end of the lane. With 
wildly waving arms and many shouts he pre- 
vented the frightened animals from passing be- 
yond him into the grove, while the others 
guarded the rear and at the same time rapidly 
slipped over their own clothes the ragged ones 
of the scarecrows. To streak their faces with 
mud and pull their football locks over their 
foreheads was the finishing stroke of genius, 
and they might readily have passed muster in 
that “ under world ” they counterfeited. 

“ Ready? ” 

“ All but Phil. Here, somebody. Hand 
him along these things,” ordered Louis, trying 
to make a crownless hat stay on his head. 

But there wasn’t time. The excitement 
they had aroused in the herd of colts was al- 
ready beyond their control. An injudicious 
slap on the haunches of the nearest one, dealt 
by Craig Washington, sent it forward among 
its companions, and instantly they were all in a 
mad rush through the wood. 

Then, for the first time, the seriousness 
of the affair chilled the mirth of the 
“ tramps.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


4 6 

“ Stop them ! stop them ! Quick ! Phil ! Bob ! 
Whoa! WH-O-A-A ! ” 

As well have tried to stop the wind. 

Grouped around the roots of a mighty oak 
tree, on the extreme verge of the high bank, 
the picnickers were having their feast. Jean- 
nette was nearest the water, her beautiful face 
aglow with the new knowledge which had 
come to her — that, in spite of her own repellent 
ways, her classmates really loved and were 
proud of her. Not so proud and fond as of 
Amy, indeed, but who could tell what might 
not happen in time? 

Delighted by the success of her venture Amy 
kept close to her school rival, and was now 
sitting next her, but gently remonstrating that 
she should keep so dangerous a place. 

“ That root looks old and treacherous, Jean- 
nette. The earth has all been washed away 
beneath, and the least slip would send you 
down the bank. It’s so straight and steep 
here, too. Let’s move a bit inshore. I really 
feel giddy, yet I’m not so far out as 
you.” 

Then came a loud, clattering rush from be- 
hind, accompanied by shouts of warning, and 


THE UNINVITED 


4 / 

cries of “ Stop, there ! ” “ Look out ! ” 

“ Whoa-a!” 

Amy sprang up and faced about, her timid 
heart halting in terror and her eyes dilating as 
she gazed into a seeming chaos of heads and 
hoofs hounded by fierce, wild men. Then she 
flung out her hand to clutch her classmate’s 
skirts and found only the empty air. 

* ‘ J eannette ! J eannette ! ’ ’ 

One glance downward into the widening, 
circling ripples told whither the girl had gone, 
and with another terrified cry of “ Jeannette! ” 
Amy had followed. 


CHAPTER IV 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 

As soon as he could do so unobserved Nu- 
gent slipped away from his friends and settled 
himself in the quiet cove to fish and dream. 
The spot was but a short distance from the 
bluff whereon the others were enjoying them- 
selves, though out of sight from it, and he 
lazily stretched himself on the grass, letting 
his line take care of itself. The result was 
that he fell asleep and no fish came to his bait. 
Indeed, there rarely did on such a sunny day 
as this; else, possibly, he might have kept his 
eyes open. 

As it was they remained shut until the rattle 
of dishes and a sense of hunger roused him to 
the fact that if he did not rejoin his mates 
he would miss the feast they were spreading. 
So he sauntered back along the stream and 
at the foot of the cliff which for some distance 
rose so straight and steep above it. 

48 



Her brother was beside her, seizing Jeannette’s struggling 
arms. — Page 49. 









AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 


49 

“ Fll wait till I get right under them, then 
climb suddenly into sight and yell. The head 
and the yell will seem to rise out of the very 
river, and how those girls will shriek. I wish 
I could pay that Edna Merton off ! and Til do 
it yet some time. Now ” 

But the fright and the surprise were to be 
his, not theirs. As he started to clamber up 
the cliff he heard the mad rush of the frenzied 
colts and the cries of the boys who chased 
them. Then something fell past him and 
struck the water heavily, sinking at once out 
of sight. Almost at the same instant another 
figure shot past him, and he recognized his 
sister’s dress. She was a good swimmer, he 
knew, and had evidently dived from the bluff 
while the first person had as evidently fallen. 

“ An accident ! ” 

Action followed swift upon this thought, 
and as Amy rose to the surface of the water, 
which just there was very deep, her brother 
was beside her, seizing Jeannette’s struggling 
arms and drawing both girls with him to the 
shore. Fortunately, this was but a few feet 
away, and almost before anybody on the bluff 
had realized what had happened below the 


AN HONOR GIRL 


$o 

dripping trio were making their slow way 
along the lower bank to a point of easier 
ascent and Amy, at least, calling in shrill 
tones : 

“ She’s safe! She’s safe !” 

Jeannette said nothing. She was still sput- 
tering and half gasping, while her feet dragged 
like lead, and she shook as if in an ague. In- 
deed, but for the sustaining arms of her res- 
cuers she would have been unable to walk at 
all. The shock had terrified and unnerved 
her, and her one desire was to sink down on 
the solid earth and hold fast to it. Only in 
this way could she reassure herself that she 
was not still in danger of drowning. 

“ Why, Jeannette, brace up ! It’s nothing. 
You weren’t hurt, and in the water only a 
minute. You’ll be all right directly. Are you 
so cold ? We’re just as wet as you, but I don’t 
mind it this warm day.” 

“I — I can’t. I must stop. I must sit 
down. I feel so queer.” 

Nugent looked sharply at the white face of 
the girl, and remarked with more force than 
gallantry : 

“ You needn’t try the fainting act. You’re 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 


51 

no fairy for weight, and I couldn’t drag you up 
this rock single-handed. The rest of the fel- 
lows must be having their own fun up yonder, 
judging by the noise, and wouldn’t bother. 
Come along. You can do it if you’ve a mind 
to.” 

Jeannette flashed round upon him : 

“ Let me go ! You great, big, homely, hor- 
rid boy ! How dare you ? ” 

“ Oh ! I dare easy enough. I’ve often 
made Amy mad when I couldn’t make her do 
things otherwise. Good ! We’ll be at the top 
in a jiffy.” 

Jeannette tossed off the helping arms of both 
assistants and leaped upward as if her former 
weakness had been all a sham. Her nervous- 
ness ended in an unreasonable anger against 
everything and everybody. Why had she ever 
come to that detestable picnic ? What did that 
grinning simpleton, Nugent, mean by treating 
her so? Did she look such an object as he 
and Amy did in their quickly drenched summer 
clothing? 

Amy, however, was not to be so easily got- 
ten rid of. She saw that Jeannette’s lips were 
blue and her teeth chattering, and again clasp- 


AN HONOR GIRL 


52 

in g her classmate’s waist with a firmness too 
strong for its owner’s resistance she begged: 

“ Don’t be angry, girlie; be thankful. It 
might have been a tragedy, but it’s only funny 
now. If you feel as absurd as I do- ” 

“ Please, Amy, let me go. I’m obliged to 
you — of course I mean it’s much stronger than 
that, but — don’t, don’t. I never cry — I don’t 
want to now, but if I — should now in a min- 
ute ” 

“ You’ll laugh instead. Here is everybody! 
You can’t escape, even if you would.” Then 
to the crowd which met them at the top of the 
bank and quickly surrounded them: “Yes, 
we’re safe. It’s all right. Nobody is the 
worse for it.” 

“ Oh ! Amy ! What a brave girl you are ! ” 

“ Jeannette, what made you do it? ” 

“ Hasn’t anybody anything hot anywhere? ” 
demanded Edna; “ I’ve read that after drown- 
ing everybody drinks hot stuff.” 

“ If they have it. This is a cold-water pic- 
nic, you know.” 

“ It’s just as I told you,” said Harriet Lord; 
“ we ought to have made either coffee or tea.” 

“ Out of what ? The hottest things I can 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 53 

think of are those sandwiches of Grace Wins- 
low’s. There’s mustard enough in them.” 

A boy ran back to the disordered cloth on 
which the food had been set out, and Edna 
seized the plate he brought and began to feed 
her victims with more zeal than discretion. 

“ Ugh — I — my mouth’s full. It’s Jean- 
nette needs ” spluttered Amy, resisting the 

enforced nourishment as best she could. “ I’m 
hungry enough, but I like to take it my own 
way.” 

“ Try me,” suggested Nugent, opening his 
capacious mouth and closing it with much 
satisfaction upon the dainty sandwich thrust 
into it. 

“ Walk ’em around. They mustn’t stand 
still. They’ll get their death if they do,” sug- 
gested Robert Morris, whose father was a 
doctor. “ Feed ’em and walk ’em and they’ll 
be all right. Come on, Phil. We must try 
for those colts again.” 

“ As well try for the man in the moon. 
They’re scattered all over Warden by this 
time. The worse for us,” he added dole- 
fully. 

This was true. The frightened animals had 


AN HONOR GIRL 


54 

promptly disappeared from the grove and had 
run up Grove Street out of sight. 

“ Yes, we must walk. We must get home 
as soon as we can,” said Amy, leading the way. 

“ You can eat as you walk, can’t you?” 
asked Robert, tendering a particularly soft 
piece of cream cake. 

“ Oh, Rob ! my waist ! The stuff is driz- 
zling all over it ! ” 

“ It’s got to be washed, anyway, hasn’t it ? 
Nothing but a little cream. Here. Another 
bite — quick! before it slips out of my fingers.” 

“ It’s one good thing : you’ll all get done 
dripping before you do get home. I’d hate to 
have your mothers’ carpets spoiled by nasty 
river water,” said Edna consolingly. Then 
she turned to the uninvited lads and ordered : 
“ You who made the mischief must stay and 
pack up the things and bring them home. 
Bring them all to my house, and there Molly 
Sargent and I will sort them out and return 
them to their owners. If you break a dish, eat 
a cake, mislay a sandwich ” 

“ I’m mislaying them as fast as I can,” cried 
Craig defiantly. 

“ I’ve no objections, so long as you pay for 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 


55 

them. Five cents each and the proceeds to 
go toward the sinking fund of the Chronicle ” 
At the mention of the Chronicle the 
“ tramps ” looked at one another in dismay. 
Not all of them had as yet discarded their bor- 
rowed tatters, and Grace Winslow’s camera 
had been quietly busy. 

Immediately they surrounded her and began 
to plead: 

“ You didn’t ‘ catch ’ me, did you, Gracie? ” 
“ You wouldn’t ‘ snap ’ an old and tried 
friend like me, Grace! You couldn’t have the 
hard heart. If my father saw me thus — oh! 
Grace ! ” 

They were all walking townward now at a 
rapid pace, leaving the wood and their own 
belongings deserted; but Jeannette suddenly 
broke her obstinate silence with the question : 

“ Would you boys, who pretend to be gentle- 
men, do so little for your sisters? The least 
amends you can make is to protect their prop- 
erty. It’s beyond words to tell how deeply I 
regret my own share in this afternoon’s enter- 
tainment, but as for you! ” 

With one impulse every “ tramp ” raised his 
hand to where his hat should have been and 


AN HONOR GIRL 


56 

gravely saluted. Then they wheeled about and 
returned to the picnic-ground. There Philip 
assumed charge of affairs and decreed : 

“ This hasn’t come out just according to 
programme, but we’ve got to swallow it. No, 
not one morsel of that shortcake, Craig Wash- 
ington! This has become an affair of honor. 
We will pack the dishes in the baskets the best 
we can, and every old sandwich in ’em to the 
last crumb. Then we’ll carry the baskets to 
the corn-field and fix the scarecrows again.” 

“ Humph ! ’Twould be easier to stand up 
ourselves on the stone walls.” 

“ If you prefer. After that’s finished, as 
well as we can, we’ll carry the baskets to 
Edna’s, and then ” 

“ Then?” 

“ Four trembling youths will beard the lion 
in his den, or farmer Growden in his barn.” 

“ Worse than that. He’s laid up with the 
rheumatism now, and my father’s attending 
him,” said Robert. “ I’m not as pleased with 
myself as I was an hour ago. I rather pity 
Robert, I do.” 

“ Well, we’re in for it. I hope somebody 
will catch a colt or two before anybody gets 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 


57 


killed. Amy Barnard’s a plucky girl. Lucky 
for her she learned to swim from that old fish- 
erman she tackles to so much. Now, not an- 
other word. Work’s the thing.” 

They were already very hungry, and they 
grew hungrier each instant, but not a particle 
of the provided feast did they allow them- 
selves. True, the packing was not done in a 
manner to make this feast more palatable for 
anybody afterward, but that feature was not 
mentioned in their contract. They simply 
obeyed Philip, and when the last napkin had 
been tucked into place, even the last scrap of 
wrapping paper after it, they sadly left the 
wood and marched down the lane to the field 
where a company of crows were diligently 
damaging the hoped-for crop. 

“ Well, I’m beat ! I didn’t know I was such 
a simpleton I couldn’t tie a mess of rags round 
a stick and make them stay there ! ” exclaimed 
Louis Cassell, after a half-hour’s fruitless 
labor to replace the tramp’s outfit whence he 
had borrowed it. 

“ It’s a case of try, try again — try a good 
many times more; but we’ll succeed after a 
while. We must,” said Philip consolingly. 


58 


AN HONOR GIRL 


Indeed, it was fast gathering twilight be- 
fore the last of the scarecrows was finished and 
stood in its old place of warning; and it was 
a half-starved set of lads who hurried town- 
wards, heroically carrying untouched the deli- 
cacies it made their mouths water just to think 
about. They asked of all whom they met: 
“ Have you seen the colts ? ” 

“ What colts ? No ! I've seen no colts. 
Why ? ” 

“ Nothing.” 

After a half-dozen such questions and re- 
plies Philip exclaimed : 

“ This thing grows worse every minute. If 
those colts are lost, or are hurt, old Growden’s 
going to make it lively for our fathers. 
They’re thoroughbreds, most of them, and 
some he’s raising will be racers. Oh ! why did 
I ever think of colts or act like such a fool ! ” 

“ Nature. Nature and destiny,” assured 
Craig promptly. But on his own face was a 
look of anxiety. 

Long before this the other young folks had 
reached their homes, and Jeannette had parted 
with Amy more affectionately than one would 
have expected from so reserved a girl. Yet she 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 


59 

would not permit any of the party to accom- 
pany her within doors, nor did they press the 
matter. Beyond the fact that she was one of 
many daughters in a careless, worldly house- 
hold, herself an exception to her sisters in in- 
tellect and appearance, they knew little about 
her. A few formal calls had been exchanged 
between her and her classmates, for she was 
rigidly exact in the performance of every duty, 
but there, until this day of the class picnic, all 
social intercourse had ended. 

“ Good-night, Amy. I — I thank you she 
had said, then hurried in and closed the door 
behind her. What the others did not see was 
that as soon as this was done she turned and 
scowled, angrily muttering : 

“ Why must that girl always be doing me 
such favors ! And I hate her. But for her I 
should have carried off first honors and won 
that scholarship. I had to carry her flowers at 
my own humiliation and now — I wish she'd 
let me alone. I could have saved myself. I 
wish — I wish — I had never been born ! ” 

Amy and Nugent entered their own home 
with far different feelings. To them the in- 
cident had been less shocking than to any of 


6o 


AN HONOR GIRL 


their mates. As very little children they had 
been taught to swim and manage a rowboat 
by “ Uncle John Gay,” an old fisherman and 
Jack-of-all-trades, whose shed-like house was 
as near the river’s edge as he could build it, and 
who was as much at home upon the water as 
upon the land. Grandfather Barnard and John 
had been school-fellows in the early days when 
Warden was but a hamlet and its only insti- 
tution of learning a wooden schoolhouse. The 
fortunes of the Barnards had grown with the 
growth of the town, but those of the Gays had 
remained unchanged. 

“ Like all my folks before me I’ve fished my 
living out of the Otterkill, and I expect to die 
a-fishing. I’ve never coveted my neighbors’ 
dollars and I’ve had all the happiness was good 
for me,” was the genial old fellow’s state- 
ment of the case. At one time in old John’s 
life his little house had been crowded full of 
young folks, who, one by one, had followed 
their mother out of it to the graveyard on the 
hill; so that now he was quite alone save for 
the children of his friends. 

“ But I’ve never lost them, Amy, you 
know,” he had said once : “ they’ve just gone 


AN AVERTED TRAGEDY 6l 

visiting up yonder, and the invitation ’ll be 
coming for me bime-by.” 

“Oh! not yet, not yet, Uncle John! I 
couldn’t spare you yet, ’cause I love you.” 

“ And I love you, little girl, and I’m glad to 
stay and fish just as long as the Lord wills. 
Life is good to everybody, even to them that 
say they’re tired of it, and in my darkest days 
I’ve never said that.” 

Though this talk had been long ago the girl’s 
affection for old John had never wavered, and 
as they passed the sitting room window, she 
was glad to hear his voice in conversation with 
Mrs. Barnard. 

“ I was just thinking, Nugent, that if it 
hadn’t been for that blessed old fellow in there 
we couldn’t have done what we did to-day, 
the river is so deep just there. It was really 
Uncle John who saved Jeannette. Let’s hurry 
and change our clothes so we can tell him be- 
fore he goes. Hark ! What’s that he’s 
saying? ” 

“ No, ma’am. I’ve had nothing make me 
feel so bad, not in twenty years. I don’t like 
these new-fangled ideas. Time was when there 
were daughters and sons. Now there’s 


62 


AN HONOR GIRL 


nobody left but career-ers. Don’t know as 
that’s a dictionary word, but it tells what 
I mean. I was dumfounded when I read 
that in the paper about our Amy. I thought 
better of her. I confess I’m more disappointed 
in her than I ever dreamed I could be.” 

“ Her higher education demands it, Uncle 
John.” 

“ Higher fiddlesticks ! Beg pardon, ma’am. 
But I’m r’iled. I’m sorry. An only daughter, 
you not strong, her father — well, things go- 
ing — you know business isn’t what it was. I 
came on purpose to see that child and talk 
sense into her if I could. Sorry she’s out, but 
just ask her to come see me, will you? Four 
years away from her home! The notion’s 
wrong from the beginning.” 

Poor Amy. She was more chilled by her 
old friend’s words than by her dip in the river. 
The worst of it was that he but voiced a fear 
that had troubled her all that day. 


CHAPTER V 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 

When Amy went down, at last, to the sit- 
ting room old John had gone. She had not 
hurried in her dressing as she had urged Nu- 
gent to do, and he had already told the story 
of the afternoon to their mother. 

“Oh! my darling! how thankful I am for 
you ! ” cried the little woman, running to meet 
her daughter and to clasp her fondly, as if still 
not wholly assured that she had suffered no 
injury. “Are you all right? Warm enough? 
Did you change everything — everything?” 

“ Everything, motherkin. Don’t worry. 
There’s nothing amiss with your wonderful 
children except a terrible hunger. They fed us 
just enough sandwiches to whet our appetites. 
Has Rebecca gone ? Is supper over ? ” 

“ Yes, to both. Your father has also gone 
back downtown. I’m afraid there’s little be- 
side bread and butter for you. You see I didn’t 
63 


AN HONOR GIRL 


64 

look for you to need anything, and in your 
hurry to fill your basket when you started you 
took nearly everything nice from the pantry. 
I’ve been busy with the berries ” 

“ Mother, mother ! Don’t reproach yourself 
because I was selfish and left you all alone with 
that work. I ought to have stayed ” 

“ Why, Amy, child ! You look as sober as 
a judge. When did you ever help me with my 
preserving or when did I expect it? Nonsense. 
Besides that, I am thankful beyond expression 
that you were just where you were when Jean- 
nette fell into the river; and that you had the 
presence of mind to pull her out. Come. 
We’ll find something.” 

“ Will you eat red herring? ” asked Nugent. 

“ Will I not? • I’ll eat anything I can get. 
Where are any ? ” 

“ In my trunk. I’ll get them. I bought 
them to go fishing with. Herring and crack- 
ers are tip-top.” 

“ But you shouldn’t keep them in your trunk, 
Nugent.” 

^ If I didn’t I’d not keep them at all. Becky 
’d throw them in the ash-barrel — or eat them 
herself. They’re prime.” 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 65 

As he leaped up the stairs, three steps at a 
time, Mrs. Barnard looked after him and 
laughed, then sighed. 

“ I wish he had as great a liking for other 
things as he has for fishing. He’ll be another 
Uncle John if he keeps on. By the way, you 
just missed him. He was here a little while 
ago.” 

“ Yes, mother. I heard him.” 

“ Heard him? Yet didn’t come to see 
him ? ” 

“ I didn’t want to see him.” 

“ Why, Amy!” 

The girl put her hands upon her mother’s 
shoulders and turned the surprised face to the 
full light. 

“ Motherkin, do you agree with him ? ” 

“ In what, my child ? ” 

“ Do you think it’s wrong I should take this 
chance — this one chance of my life? Do you 
wish me to give up that scholarship ? ” 

There was the slightest hesitation, then Mrs. 
Barnard answered gravely and gently: 

“ I wish nothing but your own greatest good 
and happiness. It is a matter for you, and you 
alone, to decide.” 


66 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ But, mother ! I don’t want to decide. I 
want you to do that for me. It’s so big a 
question — mother, it means my whole life and 
what I will make of it — I’ve so longed for a 
college course, I know I can do well in it if I 
work my hardest — but to have you and father 
and even Nugent displeased — oh! please tell 
me what is right, and I’ll obey you; or I’ll 
try to.” 

“ Amy, I can but repeat, it is a question for 
your own self, and none other. But you are 
too tired and overwrought to consider it justly 
to-night. Come. Nugent is in the dining 
room trying to find things. It will save us 
labor to find them for him. Put everything 
save the events of the moment out of your 
mind for the present. The dear boy is more 
disposed to be helpful to-day than I’ve ever 
known him. Don’t let us discourage him in 
his good efforts.” 

Amy acted upon her mother’s advice. She 
hated care and was unaccustomed to it. To- 
morrow would be time enough to worry, and 
she tossed her grave mood aside as lightly as 
she had her drenched garments. 

“’Tisn’t so bad a supper after all. -Your 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 67 

berries are fine and it’s good of you, little 
mother, to open a jar of them so soon, just for 
us. The bread is nice and* Nugent, red herring 
are ‘ tasty ’ — even of perfumery.” 

“ It was only a little bottle. I broke it get- 
ting the box out. It didn’t wet through the 
cover.” 

“ Perfumery and cigarettes mixed ” con- 

tinued Amy. 

“ Nugent!” cried the mother, aghast. 
“ You don’t smoke? ” 

“ I don’t know that it would be a crime if I 
did,” returned the lad, casting ugly glances 
toward his sister.- “ All the other fellows 
do it” 

“ Indeed ? I had supposed you were some- 
thing a little better than a ‘ fellow.’ You know 
I disapprove of the habit.” 

“ That’s why I keep my trunk locked. Since 
you’ve found it out I’ll tell you all there is. 
I’m doing my best to learn to smoke, but I’m 
not succeeding very well. It makes me sick all 
over, but a fel — I mean I must do something. 
I’m green enough and awkward enough with- 
out being a muff besides.” 

“ Thank you, my son, for your frankness. I 


68 


AN HONOR GIRL 


leave the matter in your hands. You are quite 
old enough to decide for yourself.” 

Both Amy and her brother looked surprised. 
Their mother was a woman of quick and firm 
convictions. They had been used to accepting 
her opinions and obeying them. Now she was 
suddenly releasing them from this restraint 
which they had sometimes felt irksome, and 
putting them upon their own responsibility, 
and they found the change not half so pleasant 
as they had fancied. 

“ You mean that, mother? ” 

“ Surely.” 

The lad made a funny grimace and helped 
himself to another herring. To be put upon 
his honor in a case like this meant — well, of 
course, it meant he would give it up. 

“ Mother, you’re a wise woman. You al- 
ways conquer when you yield.” 

“ Thank you. Shall I cut you another slice 
of bread ? ” 

“ No, thank you. I believe I’ve really had 
enough. Amy, I thought you were ‘ starv- 
ing.’ ” 

“ Past tense. Present tense — satisfied. 
Now, boy, go put mother in the rocker on the 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 69 

porch and keep her company while I set these 
things aside.” 

“ My dear, you would better go yourself. 
You must be tired and I do not mind ” 

“ I’d rather, mother, please.” 

Mrs. Barnard did not contest the point. In 
ordinary, certainly up till that day, she had 
willingly and continually put her own com- 
fort behind that of her daughter. Now she 
felt that it would be well for Amy to experi- 
ence some of the irksome details of house- 
keeping. These might help her to that de- 
cision regarding the scholarship which was so 
important and so difficult. Besides, her hus- 
band was coming up the street, and she coveted 
a quiet hour with him and her son. Com- 
monly, as soon as supper was over, Nugent 
left the house and spent his evenings with 
some crony or other, in any place except his 
home. To-night he showed no such inclina- 
tion and the mother’s heart rejoiced. 

As Mr. Barnard entered the yard the lad 
stooped over his mother’s chair and said : 

“ Because you’re not a nagger. One whack 
and done. That’s why.” 

She smiled up at him and answered : 


70 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Thank you. Will you draw up that other 
rocker for your father ? ” 

The evening was warm and the weary mer- 
chant was glad to rest. He accepted the chair 
with a silent nod and did not speak for some 
moments. Then he asked sternly : 

“ Do you know what damage you boys did 
at that picnic to-day? ” 

“ I don’t understand you, sir.” 

“ You don’t! You don’t? Is that true, 
Nugent? ” 

“ Certainly, father;” but the lad’s cheek 
flamed at the imputation. 

“ Of course, if you say so. But your name 
is in the paper as leader of the lot. Here.” 
Mr. Barnard unfolded a last edition of the 
Nezvs and pointed to a garbled account of the 
accident to Jeannette and the setting loose of 
Mr. Growden’s colts. 

Nugent handed the sheet back to his father 
with this comment : 

“ That reporter was in too big a hurry.” 

“ Did you not let those colts out ? ” 

t€ I certainly did not. I was fishing ” 

“ Of course ! But, go on. Tell the whole 
story, as it was, then, not as it is here.” 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 71 

Nugent told it, omitting his own share in the 
rescue of Jeannette and imputing it all to Amy; 
who happening to come out just then insisted 
that he take his full part of the credit. 

“ If credit there is in doing what comes per- 
fectly natural and was not dangerous. Jean- 
nette said afterward she could have gotten out 
by herself, and I dare say she could. Anyway 
we were none of us in the water more than a 
minute. ,, 

“ Hum. But this colt business is serious. 
They’ve scattered in all directions and they’re 
so valuable that unscrupulous persons finding 
them might run them off, out of the county, 
for their own profit. Somebody told Mr. 
Growden about it and he’s called out the Horse 
Thief Detective Society. Four riders started in 
as many directions as I came by the office. So 
much for a little thoughtless fun. Who be- 
gan it ? ” 

“ I don’t know;” and very glad was Nugent 
that he could say this. 

“ You don’t know? ” 

“ Only that it was some of the boys.” 

Again the son’s heart filled with anger. The 
repeated questions after he had once stated a 


AN HONOR GIRL 


72 

fact seemed an insinuation against his truth- 
fulness, and to escape further cross-examina- 
tion he picked up his hat and walked away. 

“ Where now, Nugent? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ Humph!” 

Mrs. Barnard’s face saddened. There was 
trouble of months’ standing between father and 
son. The former felt that it was quite time that 
the lad should settle in some legitimate busi- 
ness and be earning his own livelihood. He 
had himself been self-sustaining long before he 
was of Nugent’s age, and the latter’s temporary 
position as clerk in a second-rate lawyer’s of- 
fice appeared to the elder man as worse than 
waste of time. The small wages Nugent re- 
ceived about matched the knowledge he ac- 
quired and went mostly for trifles which he 
could easily have dispensed with. Besides 
that, the lawyer was often out of town for days 
at a time, as at present, and this left the young 
clerk with many idle hours to fill as best he 
could. 

Mr. Barnard watched his son walk away 
and felt that no more unfortunate father ex- 
isted. He needed a young, active helper in the 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 73 

big store, where the control seemed fast slip- 
ping away from him, and considered that Nu- 
gent should have been this helper. It was with 
much bitterness that his thoughts vented them- 
selves in grumbling : 

“ Look at that, will you, for a dutiful boy? 
He ought to be glad, glad and proud, to be at 
my right hand, looking after our mutual inter- 
ests, keeping a keen eye upon that foolish part- 
ner of mine. Instead, he says : 4 1 hate dry 
goods. I couldn’t wrap a decent bundle to 
save me. I’ll never be a mere counter-jumper,’ 
and so on and so on. Faugh ! He makes me 
sick.” 

“ Oh! father!” 

“Well, Amy? Havel said anything un- 
just?” 

The girl slipped her arm about his neck and 
stroked his scant hair. He had always petted 
and indulged her, but she knew in her heart 
that despite all this her brother was dearer to 
him than she was. It was her great grief that 
the two should so misunderstand each other, 
and she was always, sometimes unwisely, seek- 
ing to alter this state of things. 

“ Father, dear, Nugent isn’t so bad. He’s a 


AN HONOR GIRL 


74 

dear brother to me, and I know if he could 
make himself like the things you want him to 
he would. I know that.” 

44 Anybody can like his duty. His duty.” 

44 Can he ? It seems to me that a body’s 
* duty ’ is the hatefullest thing in life. The 
next hatefullest is deciding what that 
4 duty ’ is.” 

“ Why, Kitten ! Where did you get such a 
crooked notion into your pretty head ? ” 

“ I didn’t 4 get ’ it of my own accord. It 
just came of itself. I wish it had stayed away. 
But, father, about Nugent. I’ve found out 
something Nugent would like to do, or be.” 

44 What’s that? ” 

T4 A farmer.” 

44 A farmer! Trash. It takes a clever man 
to be a farmer, these days, and make money at 
it. I shall never consent to that. The Bar- 
nards have been merchants in Warden ever 
since the place existed. I do not mean that the 
old name and firm shall lapse just because an 
eighteen-year-old boy turns rebellious to dis- 
cipline. I shall send word to-morrow to that 
pettifogger to look out for another errand boy. 
Monday, Nugent goes into the store as a clerk 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 75 

and stays there, — if there’s any store left to 
stay in ! ” 

Neither his wife nor daughter were as 
shocked by this exclamation as he had expected 
them to be. He did not realize how often sim- 
ilar expressions had escaped him during the 
past months, and they attributed this particular 
outburst to some minor annoyance of the day. 
One year before Mr. Barnard had taken a 
stranger into his business, and, from that time, 
both the business and Mr. Barnard himself had 
been also changed. His own old, safe, con- 
servative methods found no favor with the 
stranger, who was headstrong, ambitious, and 
unscrupulous. The former small stock of re- 
liable goods was displaced by a large one of 
meretricious articles which, sold at low figures, 
brought a temporary prosperity, but eventually 
injured the firm’s reputation. 

All this had worked upon Mr. Barnard’s 
mind till he became unable to sleep, grew ir- 
ritable, and despondent, and like many another 
sorely tried person vented upon those dearest 
to him the vexation that was caused by others 
to whom he dared not so express himself. 

“ Oh ! father, dear ! There’s always been 


76 AN HONOR GIRL 

4 Barnard’s ’ in Warden, and always the best 
house of the town. I reckon there always will 
be, too.” 

“ I’d like to know how, since Nugent is the 
only son and refuses to do his duty. But that’s 
over. He’s a minor. He shall obey me. Good- 
night, Amy. You’d better go to your room. 
Your old father’s cross to-night, and you 
must forget that in thinking over your tri- 
umphs of last night. There, child, kiss me 
and go.” 

It was the dismissal she desired, for, indeed, 
she wanted to do a lot of “ thinking,” though 
not quite of that sort her father had suggested. 
Kneeling down by her open window she rested 
her arms upon the sill and looked out on the 
lovely, peaceful scene. Even the unnatural 
light and shade of the electric lamp seemed, 
for once, to blend harmoniously with the 
moonlight, and the few street sounds which 
rose to her were pleasant ones. The distant 
tinkle of a mandolin, the nearer music of a 
male quartette passing homeward from some 
practice, and the chime of the cathedral bells 
soothed and strengthened her. 

How long she knelt there she did not know; 


IN THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT 77 

but she roused after a time as the gate clanged 
noisily shut and she heard her brother come 
slouching up the path. 

“ Nugent! And it must be very late! I’ve 
been asleep, for I’m stiff and cold and things 
look queer, as when one just awakes. Surely 
that is Nugent, but what ails him? How odd 
he acts ! As if he couldn’t see, or — he must be 
ill! Poor Nugent!” 

She sped down the stairs in her soft bed- 
room slippers, cautiously opened the street 
door, and hurried to her brother’s side; to 
slip her arm around him and peer into his face 
anxiously : 

“Oh! Nugent, are you ill? What is it, 
dear?” 

“111? No. Nobody’s ill— I know of. ’Less 
you. Dizzy. Head’s awful dizzy. That’s all.” 

Poor Amy ! She dropped his hand that she 
had clasped so tenderly as if it struck her. In 
all her sheltered life she had had no experience 
like this, but she comprehended instantly. 
His breath, his manner, these did not belong to 
Nugent as she knew him. They must never be 
his again. Never, never, never! 

“ Come with me, dear, softly. Mother is 


AN HONOR GIRL 


78 

tired. I hope she’s asleep. Come softly, 
softly.” 

“ Good girl, Amy. Honor girl, Amy. Life- 

saver, Amy. Amy — Amy — Am ” 

She stopped his lips with her trembling 
fingers, whispering : “ Hush ! dear. You must 
not, must not wake my mother. Hush — 
hush!” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE ISLAND 

Everybody was late the next morning, even 
Rebecca, who came limping into the kitchen 
fully an hour behind her usual hour. Mrs. 
Barnard was trying to get the breakfast for- 
ward, but one glance into her mistress’ face told 
the old servant that this was a “ sick-headache 
day,” and that working over a hot range was 
not going to help matters. 

“ There, honey, you go ’long lie down again. 
My skyattic’s worse ’an common, but never 
mind. I’ll get the master’s coffee ready in a 
jerk. Miss Amy’s not up yet, I reckon. Well, 
let her sleep. She deserves, being she’s the 
smartest girl in Warden town and the bravest. 
All our alley is talking how she took the prizes 
and saved the other girl from drownding. You 
go, honey. Sure you’re not fit for anything 
here.” 

Mrs. Barnard went, for Rebecca’s words 


79 


8o 


AN HONOR GIRL 


were true enough. At that moment she had 
but one desire — a darkened room and a cool 
pillow. A passing regret that Amy should not 
have been down to make the father’s meal less 
lonely, was banished by the memory of how 
hard the girl had been studying and how tired 
she really was. 

Mr. Barnard swallowed his half-cooked 
food in haste and in a moody silence, answer- 
ing not at all, save by an inarticulate grunt or a 
curt nod, when the privileged Becky began a 
recital of the morning’s gossip as she had 
heard it, coming along the way. Sometimes 
the old woman’s garrulousness had amused 
him, but nothing did so on that unfortunate oc- 
casion, and she soon ceased her efforts. But 
she watched him down the path, thinking : 

“ There he goes withouten a good-by from 
nobody. Looks ’s if he hadn’t had a mite of 
sleep, neither, and him the bread-earner for 
the whole family. Hm-m. But I reckon 
things ’ll be brighter by dinner-time. Now 
I’ll call them two childern.” 

Amy roused with that sense of guilt that 
sometimes follows oversleeping and exclaimed 
with keen regret : 


THE ISLAND 


81 


“ Oh ! I meant to be up so early this morn- 
ing. Is breakfast ready? Is Nugent down 
yet?” 

“ That Nugent won’t be down this hour, I 
reckon, the way he growled when I called him. 
Your father’s eat and gone and your mother’s 
back in bed with a headache. My skyattic’s so 
bad this morning I ’lowed I didn’t know I’d 
ever get here. Hurry, honey, that’s a good 
girl. I wouldn’t woke you, but seems like there 
ought to be somebody ’round lookin’ after 
things less ’an old Becky. It’s going to be 
dreadful hot. Your mother overdone, yester- 
day, that’s why she’s laid up now. She ain’t 
as strong as a lion, your mother ain’t.” 

With this remark Becky made her painful 
way back to the kitchen and Amy hurried 
through the cold dip with which she began each 
day, dressing afterward with unusual haste, 
yet dreading the moment when she should meet 
her brother. 

“ How can we look each other in the eyes, 
after last night? And why do I feel as if it 
were I, not he, who did that dreadful thing? 
Why do I feel as if the blame of what happened 
were mine ? ” 


82 


AN HONOR GIRL 


But she need not have feared the meeting, 
at least for the present. Nugent did not appear 
and Amy ate her warmed-over food with scant 
relish and a deep sense of the dreariness of 
things in general. 

“ Doesn’t seem as if this were the same 
bright room we had our jolly supper in. Oh ! 
why can’t everybody do right and be happy! 
By all odds I should be the happiest graduate 
of all our class, but I doubt if there’s another 
girl as sad as I am this morning. Well, think- 
ing of trouble doesn’t mend it. I’ll go see 
mother, for a minute, then help poor old Becky 
if I can. After that, I must go somewhere 
quite by myself and think.” 

There was little to be done for Mrs. Bar- 
nard save to persuade her to take a cup of tea 
and to insure her a few hours of quiet ; and her 
consent that Amy might go for a long walk 
was readily given. Afterward, the girl saw 
that the parlor was in order, attended to her 
own room, and carefully avoided the dining 
room where the table still waited — and was 
destined to wait — for the delinquent Nugent. 
Then she sought the kitchen and placed her 
mother in Rebecca’s faithful care. 


THE ISLAND 


83 

“ I’m going out, Becky. I feel restless and 
I can’t stay still here. It’s so lonesome and 
dismal; but I’ll be all right again when I come 
home. If any of the girls call don’t tell them 
where I am, though, of course, you wouldn’t 
know. Good-bye. I hope your rheumatism 
will be better quick.” 

Rebecca sat down in the sunshine of the 
kitchen door and watched her favorite walk 
away. 

“ Sure she’s the prettiest and the stylishest 
girl in the place. Wears them plain white 
dresses of hers like they was the satins and 
laces of a queen. She certainly does. See her 
hold her head that way, now? I tell you, old 
Becky, your young miss is the nicest, smartest 
girl, and obligingest young lady ever you saw. 
Yes, sir, that’s so.” 

But if Amy’s head was held high it was from 
habit, not her present mood. Her heart was 
heavy and perplexed and her feeling was one 
of desire to get free from the unwelcome 
trouble. 

“ If I could only run away from myself ! 
Just two days ago and everything was so 
lovely. That beautiful Commencement, my 


AN HONOR GIRL 


84 

4 honors,’ my flowers — it did not seem as if 
there could be a care in this world. Only two 
days and I feel a regular Methuselah. What 
shall I do ? Either way I look there’s nothing 
but perplexity.” 

Almost unconsciously, Amy had turned into 
the path across the fields which formed a short- 
cut toward that part of the river where John 
Gay lived. She had not meant to go there just 
yet, but finding herself on the way, kept on 
with the determination to win him over to her 
side of the question that worried her ; her side 
being the conviction that her duty lay college- 
ward. 

“ Next to my own family 4 Uncle John ’ 
loves me better than anybody. He would miss 
me if I went and that’s one reason why. Be- 
sides, he never had an education, and I sup- 
pose sees little use for such in a girl’s life. Oh ! 
I think he’ll change his mind after he’s lis- 
tened to me. Queer, anyway, that I should care 
so much whether he does or not. Yet, maybe, 
not so queer after all. I don’t suppose there’s 
anybody, man, woman, or child, in Warden, 
who knows and doesn’t love that sunshiny old 
man. I’ve often watched the faces brighten 


THE ISLAND 85 

along the way when we’ve been walking to- 
gether and met people. I love him, too, and he 
must approve. He must ! ” 

The very thought of the fisherman seemed to 
lift a weight from Amy’s spirits and she tripped 
over the rest of the road with a light step and 
eager haste. When she came in sight of the 
gray cottage she whistled a gay little salute 
which her old friend promptly recognized and 
answered, by appearing in his doorway. 

“ Good-morning, child. You’re late.” 

“ Late ? Did you expect me ? ” 

“ Surely.” 

“ Nobody told me.” 

“ Maybe not. I knew you’d come, though. 
Now you’re here let’s be off? ” 

“ Where?” 

“ To the Island.” 

“ Oh ! are you going there ? How 
charming ! ” 

“ For a spell. I’m in an Island fit and 
’lowed you’d be, too.” 

“ I am. It’s the very place to think in, or on. 
Which boat?” 

Old John pointed toward a snowy rowboat, 
that rocked gently beside his little wharf, 


86 AN HONOR GIRL 

and smiled. The boat was new and was 
daintily lettered in blue and gold : “ The 

Amy.” 

“ Why, what? ” 

“ Step in and try it, child. It’s yours. I 
thought you’d have time to use it now you’ve 
done school.” 

“Mine? From whom? My father?” 

“ No, indeed. Somebody a deal older than 
your father.” 

“ You? Is it you, Uncle John? ” 

“ Why shouldn’t it be?” 

“ Oh ! you darling man ! ” 

Away around the fisherman’s neck went the 
girl’s arms and a hearty kiss touched either 
grizzled cheek. “ Thank you, thank you, thank 
you ! What a splendid, generous present ! It’s 
too much. I can’t ” 

“ Tut, tut, Amy ! Leave that part to me. 
Your part is to accept it, step into it, row me 
over to the Island, and then do as you please. 
I’ve got a loaf of bread in my basket and a few 
potatoes to roast in the ashes. You can make 
a fire while I catch a fish or two. We’ll have 
dinner together and / shall like that, I can tell 
you. ’Tisn’t every day in the week an old 


THE ISLAND 87 

fisher body can dine with a graduated heroine. 
No, indeedy.” 

“ Oh ! You funny Uncle John ! ” 

“ Step in, missy.” 

“ Only too gladly, and wish it might be for 
a dinner, too, as you say. But mother is ill 

with one of her headaches ” 

“ And won’t expect you back. A little 
shaver was just going up the hill as I saw you 
coming down and I sent a bit of a scrawl to the 
good lady. Told her not to look for you home 
till you got there. I’d have you in care. ’Tisn’t 
the first time you’ve had a picnic with me and 
I mean mine shall turn out better than the one 
you managed yesterday.” 

“ Or mismanaged — in part. Do you sup- 
pose those colts will ever be found ? ” 

“ Surely. Like Bo-Peep’s sheep they’ll all 
come home and bring their tails behind them.” 

“ Father was worried. He blamed Nugent, 
though, truly, Nugent had not the slightest 
thing to do with that business. Nugent was 

just splendid yesterday ” 

The sister paused so suddenly that John 
looked at her keenly. Then he said, with a 
curious accent : 


88 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ I’m very glad to hear it. Now step in, 
please, and try your oars. I’m anxious to know 
if they’re right weight and see how you handle 
them. You haven’t had much practice since 
last summer.” 

But she had not forgotten the art. She loved 
the water almost as dearly as old John did, and 
the very fact of being upon its placid surface 
seemed to reflect a placidity upon her own 
troubled mind. The little craft had been fash- 
ioned with a loving hand and adapted to its 
prospective owner’s strength according to the 
builder’s best judgment and skill. The result 
was that Amy was able to propel it toward the 
Island in the middle of the wide river by so 
slight an exertion that, after a few strokes, she 
exclaimed : 

“Why, this isn’t rowing at all! It’s just 
floating. It tires me so little I could sing.” 

“ So do, child, and give the old man 
pleasure.” 

Amy’s voice was sweet and clear, but neither 
trained nor powerful. To the fisherman, who 
loved it, its music was like that of the birds, 
and sitting motionless with chin resting on his 
hands and his eyes closed he listened to it now 



Why, this isn't rowing- at all 




Page 88 











THE ISLAND ' 89 

in keenest delight. He continued thus until 
the first gay melody altered somewhat and a 
minor tone crept into the tender voice. 

Then he opened his eyes and said crisply : 

“ Time to stop, now. You’re running too 
far north of the landing, and not minding the 
first duty on hand — to make a good finish of a 
fair beginning.” 

“ Why, I didn’t see we were so near the 
Island. I was thinking of other things.” 

Gay’s Island, as it was called, was a half- 
rocky, half-wooded bit of land in mid-stream, 
and the private property of Uncle John. It 
had been the home of his forbears, fishermen 
all, and the house where they had lived still 
remained. But it was big and empty now, and 
fast falling into a sort of decay. John’s pride 
was too great to allow its utter ruin, even 
though he could not see what use the building 
would ever be to anybody; so he would put an 
occasional day’s labor on the ancient structure, 
and his present errand was to repair the roof, 
whence a few shingles had been blown in a re- 
cent gale. The nearest he ever felt to sadness 
was when he entered the deserted building 
which had been a home in his boyhood; and 


AN HONOR GIRL 


90 

sadness he considered a fault in a world so full 
of love and happiness. 

“ There ! Didn’t I do that pretty well, for 
one who’s out of practice as you admit ? ” de- 
manded Amy, as, having safely moored the 
other “ Amy ” she sprang to the beach and 
fastened the painter to its stake. 

“ Fairly. Fairly. You’ll do better by au- 
tumn. Now we’ll carry the traps up to the 
kitchen and then I’ll get to work.” 

There was a big, old-fashioned fireplace in 
the kitchen and a few ancient utensils to use 
in it. A rather rusty iron tea-kettle hung on 
the crane and a Dutch oven leaned against the 
bricks. There, also, hung a heavy iron grid- 
iron, with a long handle, and standing upon 
four legs when in use, which it bothered Amy 
to lift; but which over a bed of wood coals 
would broil a fish to perfection. 

“ Oh ! this is delightful ! What a day we 
shall have. Thank you, Uncle John, almost as 
much for bringing me here as for your beau- 
tiful gift.” 

“ Enough said, missy. The thanks are on 
my side. Let’s see. Here’s kindling a-plenty, 
and I’ll just step out and bring in an armful of 


THE ISLAND 


91 

wood. Most obliging wood-cutter in the 
world, the wind is. Never come over but I 
find enough branches broken down to keep all 
the fires I need. Economical, too, for wood- 
cutter wind takes none but the dead and 
worthless stuff. Same’s them wore-out 
shingles. They’ll make a terrible hot fire to 
start with and that’s the best use for them. 
Like some folks : terrible rush and bluster, but 
no substance. Now you, Amy, child, what’s 
this I hear about you ? Are you going to turn 
rusher, too, after book-learning, and forget 
that slow and steady burning does the most 
good ? ” 

“ Uncle John, you’ve heard all about it, of 
course. You were at my Commencement. 
Isn’t it an honor that’s offered me? Isn’t it a 
splendid chance to get the education I want ? ” 
“ Yes. Surely.” 

“ Then why don’t you like it ? ” 

“ In your case, in — your — case , little Amy, 
too much like dried shingles.” 

“ You don’t believe in the higher culture of 
women. Why don’t you ? ” 

“ I do. I do, child, with all my heart.” 

“ But you don’t like colleges.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


9 2 

“ Mistaken again, missy. I do like colleges 
— for some people. I wish I was rich enough, 
no, I mean if I was rich enough I’d build one 
right here in Warden for poor and ambitious 
youngsters to use free of cost. But it isn’t 
needed or I’d .have been given the cash to 
build it.” 

“ Why not for me ? ” 

“ There are homes first, child. If ever God 
set a girl in a home where ’twas her plain duty 
to stay, you’re that girl. Staying there needn’t 
end that ‘ higher culture ’ business as I see. In- 
deed, it will but make it more certain. Think 
well, little girl, think well before you let ambi- 
tion run away from duty.” 

“ That horrid word again. I — hate it ! I’d 
like to banish it out of the dictionary and out of 
the world ! ” 

“ Hm-m. Well, it would be a dismal old 
world, indeed, if gentle 4 duty ’ left it. She’s 
the very sunshine of life, missy, and don’t you 
berate the sunshine. Now, I’ve preached my 
little sermon — as I expected to. I’m going 
aloft to patch up that old roof. That’s my im- 
mediate duty and I like it. Run along off into 
the woods and be happy. I saw a few late 


THE ISLAND 


93 

swamp-pinks on that burnt-over piece, and you 
know what this Island’s strawberries are. I’ll 
be about an hour shingling, then I’ll catch a 
fish and we’ll have dinner. Pity there wasn’t 
somebody else to enjoy it with us. Nugent, 
now, for instance.” 

“ Nugent ! ” thought Amy. “ The very last 
one I want to see. How can I meet him? 
He’ll know I know, and yet I don’t want to 
show I know and — oh, dear! That sounds 
exactly like Edna. I wish I were more like 
her. She never worries about anything.” 

Amy resolved to do no more worrying, her- 
self, for the present, and, taking a basket she 
found in the cupboard, set off for her berries. 
They were plentiful and delicious, with that 
piquant flavor which only the wild fruit keeps, 
and she grew enthusiastic over them. The be- 
lated pinks, too, seemed to have a depth of 
color and perfume that the earlier ones had 
not known. The sky was cloudless, and though 
outside the wood the heat was intense, beneath 
the big trees there was coolness and comfort. 

Such coolness and comfort, in fact, that the 
girl soon yielded to its influence and curled 
herself under a dense pine for “ forty winks.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


94 

“ It’s absurd to be sleepy in the morning,” 
was her last waking thought; forgetting how 
broken had been her last night’s rest. She 
woke with a start and the sense of intrusion. 
At the foot of the wooded bank somebody had 
beached a boat; and a tall, rough-looking per- 
son was coming straight toward her, though 
his eyes were cast down, and he stumbled along 
like one too absorbed in his own thoughts to 
note where his feet are set. 


CHAPTER VII 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 

“ Why — Nugent! ” 

“ Amy ! ” 

There was dismay in both voices, but the 
lad’s shamefaced manner roused his sister’s 
pitying tenderness. She could not bear it that 
he should drop his eyes before her, and one 
glance took in all the suggestive details of 
his appearance. His hair was unbrushed, 
his shoes unlaced, his necktie missing. He 
seemed to have gotten into the first cloth- 
ing convenient and in great haste; for this 
was wholly a different Nugent from that 
she was accustomed to. The other Nugent 
had been awkward, indeed, but never un- 
clean nor unkempt. There was dirt on the 
pretty madras shirt of which he had been so 
proud, and the buckle of his belt was broken. 
He looked like one who had fallen or been 


95 


9 6 an honor girl 

rolled in the street, and an instant indignation 
against some unknown tempters made her 
fierce in her brother’s defense. She became as 
glad as she had been afraid to meet him. 

“ How did you know we were wishing for 
you ? Uncle John and I ? ” 

The boy raised his eyes but glanced any- 
where save at his sister’s face. “ What do 
you mean? ” 

“ Oh ! you don’t know, of course. That’s 
one of Uncle John’s boats, I see, but you’ve 
come round the north side of the Island, while 
we came straight from his house, south. He’s 
given me a splendid ‘ graduation gift.’ The 
dearest, prettiest little rowboat, all white and 
clean like snow, and with my name on it in 
blue and gold. Of course, he built it himself 
and with the greatest care. It’s a beauty. 
Come and see it. I’ve not really looked it over 
myself, yet. We’re going to have dinner here, 
in the old house or on the grass before it. He’s 
brought bread and potatoes, and there’s always 
a jar of butter in the cellar here. He’s going 
to take a fish and I’m to broil it on the old 
gridiron. It ’ll be a deal jollier picnic than yes- 
terday, he claims. Come on. Aren’t these 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 97 

lovely berries? Do eat some. There’s more 
than we can use at dinner.” 

Something rose in Nugent’s throat and 
choked him. There is no suffering keener than 
that of a well-trained boy when he wakes to 
the fact of his own first downfall. It was the 
old story of idleness, wild companions, and a 
passing anger against the legitimate restraints 
of life; but it was a story bitterly new to Nu- 
gent Barnard, and one which he believed to 
have left an ineffaceable stain upon him. He 
had slunk breakfastless from his home, thank- 
ful to escape for the time being the accusing 
eyes of mother and sister. He had gone by a 
remote by-way to John Gay’s wharf, and ap- 
propriated one of the several boats always 
found tied there, and which John kept for the 
convenience of his many patrons. He had 
pulled himself over the most unused course to 
the Island, expecting to find it in solitude, and 
had plunged into the deepest part of the wood, 
to recover there, if he could, some part of his 
lost self-respect. And he had come directly 
upon the very person he most wished to avoid ! 

Nugent had all of his sister’s directness with 
little of her tact. His hesitation lasted but an 


9 8 AN HONOR GIRL 

instant; then he advanced and laid his hands 
on Amy’s shoulders, demanding fiercely : 

“ Did you tell mother? ” 

“ No. Nor never will.” 

His eyes were not averted now and his grip 
on her flesh hurt her. 

“ Somebody will.” 

“ Then let it be yourself.” 

“ I can’t. It would break her heart.” 

“ No. It would not even bend it,” smiling 
a trifle sadly; “ it would only strengthen it.” 

“ What do you mean ? How dare you say 
that? ” 

“ I judge her by myself. I never loved you 
half so well as I love you this minute. What 
is my love compared to hers ? ” 

The lump in his throat forced the moisture 
to his eyes, and he passed his hand across them 
impatiently. His gaze dropped from the girl’s 
moved face to the ground at her feet, and his 
clutch upon her shoulders relaxed. 

“ Amy, you’re a trump.” 

“ Thanks. Do eat some berries.” 

“ In a minute. I’m half-starved. I had no 
breakfast. But first, I want to say something. 
Will you believe it? ” 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 


99 


“ Aren’t you a Barnard ? ” 

“ Yes. They don’t lie, even though my 
father ” 

“ He didn’t mean it, Nugent. I fear poor 
father has more anxieties than are good for 
him. He is tired and worn. I can’t remember 
when he has taken a vacation, even a short one. 
We must make him go away this summer.” 

“ The Barnards are no more easily made to 
do things than they are to lie. These berries 
are perfectly delicious.” 

He had seated himself on the ground beside 
her now, and was fast emptying her basket. 
He often declared that he was always hungry, 
but the thirst and craving of that morning 
were something horribly new to his experi- 
ence. 

“ Amy, it shall never happen again.” 

“ No, Nugent, I hope not.” 

“ You needn’t say ‘ hope.’ I tell you it shall 
not. I’m a Barnard.” 

“ And will keep your word.” 

“ I’ll make a clean breast of it to father 
and mother. I’ll accept what they impose. 
I’ve disgraced them and I shan’t complain.” 

Amy smiled angelically, but said nothing. 


Lof C. 


IOO 


AN HONOR GIRL 


Only picked out the plumpest berry she could 
find and thrust it between his lips. 

“ You see, girlie, it’s been awful dismal. 
You’re always at your books or with those 
chattering girls. Mother is always busy and 
father glum. He doesn’t approve of me in any 
single respect; and it’s not so encouraging a 
thing as you might fancy to feel one’s self con- 
tinually in disfavor. I don’t see any light 
ahead, either. If you go away it will be worse 
than ever, for you were home at supper time, 
at least. Oh ! I’m sick of life ! ” 

“ At eighteen ! and down yonder’s that 
blessed old John in love with life at seventy! 
There’s something wrong somewhere in such 
a state of things. The case should be re- 
versed.” 

“ He read me a lecture on duty once. He 
thinks I should go into the store. I’d rather 
die, I believe.” 

“ You don’t mean that.” 

“ Maybe not. I don’t know. I do know 
that the thought of being shut up between those 
cloth-laden counters, day in and day out, is 
enough to drive me crazy. I hate it. I 
couldn’t do it. But he, old John, pays no at- 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 


IOI 


tention to my notions. Says we 4 aren’t flung 
down in life like bags out of a wagon, hap- 
hazard.’ That ‘ there’s a Hand arranging 
everything, and that to believe it, and accept 
it quietly, is to be perfectly happy.’ I suppose 
it is for him. That’s his nature. Mine isn’t 
so tame. It doesn’t seem to me that there’s 
much show of any wise Hand in the arrange- 
ment of my affairs. I could manage them 
better for myself, I fancy.” 

“It does seem so, sometimes; but, Nugent, 
could you? If you could do just what you 
wished, what would it be ? ” 

“ I’d be handsome and popular and clever. 
I’d fill my pockets with money. I’d take father 
out of that old store and mother out of her 
stupid house and send them a-travel. I’d give 
you — hello ! John’s whistling for you. I 
guess I won’t go down. Don’t tell him I was 
here. I can slip away as I came and he’ll never 
know.” 

“ But I shall know. Do you suppose I’ll 
enjoy my picnic dinner without you? Non- 
sense. Here. Take my comb. Never mind 
it if it is a girl’s, made to hold up a few stray 
hairs. You’ve plenty of stray hairs yourself, 


102 


AN HONOR GIRL 


and it will answer at a pinch. You can wash 
in the pool below the spring. Here's a pin to 
fasten your collar. Tie up your shoes. Be a 
good Nugent and you shall have the best part 
of the fish when it’s cooked." 

“ I can't. I have a dim remembrance that 
old John Gay passed me on the street last night. 
Somebody did. Somebody took hold of me 
and shook me and set me on the road home. 
Somebody went with me as far as the corner 
of our yard. I’m afraid it was John. If it 
was " 

“ He’ll be the more glad to see you here and 
thus. Oh! I hope it was he. He's a true, 
true friend. He blames nobody for any 
wrong-doing." 

“ He blamed me all right ! I remember 
somebody saying things that cut like a whip. 
I’d rather not go down." 

“Nugent Barnard? Where’s your man- 
hood? Now you stop this nonsense! You 
made my heart ache last night. Did you enjoy 
the performance? Do you want to make it 
keep on aching? Then come down and eat 
my dinner. See if a ‘ sweet girl graduate ' and 
an ‘ honor girl ’ can’t cook good food." 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 


103 


She stood up and her brother also rose. 

“ Amy, you’re — you’re Ai ! I’ll come.” 

The fisherman had the fish ready for her and 
was just burying the well-washed potatoes in 
the ashes. He had made a fire that had now 
burned itself down to coals, and Amy set about 
the cooking with a will. She made her old 
friend seat himself in a “ Boston rocker,” one 
of the few ancient bits of furniture left in the 
house; and, for want of a better, spread the 
deal table with a newspaper “ cloth.” The 
knives and two-tined forks belonged, like the 
rocker, to the days of John Gay’s childhood, 
though articles of the same pattern served him 
daily still, and he saw nothing amiss in them 
if these younger folk did find them a trifle 
awkward. There were a few cups and plates, 
and as soon as Nugent appeared he was handed 
a big blue pitcher and bidden : 

“ Go back, boy, and fill that at the ‘ fairies’ 
well.’ ” 

John’s welcome had been equally common- 
place; merely the greeting: 

“ Hello, Nugent. Just in time. I was ex- 
pecting you. That’s why I hooked so big a 
fish.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


104 

When the lad had gone away with the 
pitcher Amy asked: 

“ How came you to be expecting him, Uncle 
John? ” 

“ I knew he was in trouble. Same as you 
were. Ever since you were knee-high you’ve 
brought your troubles over here, haven’t you? 
Ought to be called the ‘ Refuge,’ ’stead of 
Gay’s Island. Now, go on with your broiling. 
Don’t let that creature scorch. If there’s any- 
thing I find hard to swallow it’s a burned fish. 
By the way, missy, you look a deal more like 
Amy Barnard than you did when you went 
sighing up the hill.” 

“ Do I?” 

“ Yes, indeed. I reckon you did a lot of 
wise thinking up there.” 

“ Uncle John, I did not one bit. I meant 
to, but I put it off. I picked the berries and 
I went to sleep. Then Nugent came ” 

“ And you forgot your own worries in com- 
forting his. Little woman, let me tell you, 
you’ve found the secret of a happy life ! ” 

Such a day as they made of it! When the 
dinner was over and done the old man grew 
talkative, and told them stories of his early 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 105 

days that set them laughing continually. They 
had heard the same tales many times, but were 
not now in a mood to be critical. Sitting 
under the shade of the great oaks before the 
house door, with a cool breeze blowing from 
the river, and the only sounds the whistle of a 
passing steamer or the rumble of a railway 
train along the distant bank, it seemed to all 
three as if care and perplexity were dreams and 
this sweet serenity the real and only life. 

But the day waned. The wooded Island 
threw its shadows across to the eastern shore, 
the night calls of the birds sounded in the tree- 
tops, and the fisherman rose. 

“ That unwelcome Miss Duty is after us 
again, Amy. Time to go home, look after the 
mother’s headache and the father’s comfort. 
Time for my chickens to be fed, and those fish 
you’ve caught, Nugent, to be put on ice if you’d 
have them nice for breakfast. Well, that’s all 
right. If our good times never ended we’d 
not care for them at all. Besides, you have 
now the Amy, and, though you’ve never waited 
for it yet, I’ll do what I read in the papers 
sometimes, give you ‘ the freedom of ’ the 
Island. Come. Let’s be going.” 


106 AN HONOR GIRL 

Nugent was made to get into the boat with 
Amy, and the old man took that which Nugent 
had brought and rowed alongside back to his 
own wharf. There they parted with good- 
nights, and promises of frequent visits, and 
their old friend watched the brother and sister 
climb the field-path over the hill with loving 
eyes and earnest wishes. 

“ May she choose right, that little maid. It’s 
a hard spot she’s come to, and a sharp turn in 
her young life. Two roads lead from it, and 
both seem straight. But, standing on the top 
of my seventy years, one of them looks terrible 
crooked to my old eyes. Well, the Hand is 
leading. I can trust her to It.” 

Mrs. Barnard was on the porch to greet them 
when they reached home. The long, quiet day 
had cured her headache, and Becky had been 
relieved of any midday meal, since Mr. Bar- 
nard lunched downtown. The windows were 
open, the table neatly laid, and all in readiness 
for the father’s return. 

“ Come, Nugent. Let’s hurry and dress. I 
feel untidy after lounging on the rocks all day, 
and I’m sure you look so ! ” cried Amy, thus 
diverting her mother’s surprise at her brother’s 


A DAY AND ITS ENDING 


107 

careless appearance. For even the loan of a 
side-comb and a pin for the buttonless, tieless 
collar, had not quite made good the delin- 
quencies of the lad’s attire. 

But they were both fresh and dainty when 
at last Mr. Barnard came slowly up the street, 
and, clustered about their mother’s chair, were 
rehearsing the happenings of the day. Or 
Amy was so rehearsing, for Nugent was now 
again oppressed by the knowledge of last 
night’s shame, and the necessity he felt of tell- 
ing his mother at the first opportunity. He 
kept silence, therefore, and left the talk to Amy, 
though his manner toward Mrs. Barnard was 
full of an unusual tenderness. Had the daugh- 
ter guessed aright? Would that gentle face 
turn toward him with harshness or forgiveness, 
when his confession was made? 

As her father passed through the gate Amy 
ran to meet him, and, slipping her arm within 
his, walked with him toward the house. But 
the warmth of her greeting was chilled by his 
indifference, he seeming hardly conscious of 
what he heard or spoke. 

Mrs. Barnard hastily rose and stood waiting, 
her face paling and flushing, and the pain re- 


108 an honor girl 

turning to her temples with redoubled force. 
She was one who could toil ceaselessly, al- 
most tirelessly, for those she loved, but was 
stricken into helplessness by anxiety or sus- 
pense. 

“ Why, Charles ! What is it ? What’s hap- 
pened ? Quick — please tell me ! ” 

Apparently he did not hear her; yet at the 
top of the steps he paused, and with uplifted 
finger fixedly regarded Nugent as he said in a 
tone unlike his own : 

“ For all these generations, in love and 
honor, father and son, shoulder to shoulder, 
and at the end — disgrace ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 

“ Come, Charles,” said Mrs. Barnard 
quietly, and led the way indoors, he following 
with that absent manner which showed how 
troubled he was. But when she rang for din- 
ner to be served he begged: 

“ Excuse me, Gertrude, please. I couldn’t 
eat to-night. No, wife, I’m not ill; I’m merely 
— busy. There, don’t look so anxious. If it 
will satisfy you better let Becky bring a cup of 
tea and a roll to the library. I’ve some writing 
to do and I’d rather be alone.” 

“ Very well, dear. If you wish; though a 
good, wholesome meal would help you more 
than you think.” 

He shook his head, kissed her, and she felt 
herself dismissed. She knew that in good time 
he would explain everything, and tried to be 
patient till that time should come. But when 
she entered the dining room she tried to throw 


109 


1 10 


AN HONOR GIRL 


off her own depression and to be bright for 
her children’s sake. Only Amy met her, how- 
ever, and the girl’s eyes were full of trouble 
as she raised them appealingly to her mother’s. 

“Where’s Nugent, Amy?” 

“ I — I don’t know, mother.” 

“ He should not keep us waiting. Call him, 
please.” 

“ I don’t think it will do any good. I don’t 
think he will come.” 

“ Why not? Of course he’ll come and take 
his father’s place to carve for us. Just speak 
to him, won’t you?” 

“ I heard him run upstairs and down again. 
Then the gate shut hard and — I guess he’s 
gone — somewhere. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Barnard lost patience. Rebecca had 
reported Nugent’s neglect of his breakfast, and 
now he was absenting himself from dinner, 

“ He should not be so thoughtless and keep 
us waiting. Doubtless he saw some of his 
mates passing and went out to them. I’ll go 
myself and call him back.” 

Amy did not follow nor say more. She 
knew that her brother had received his father’s 
reproof as relating to his escapade of the night 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


III 


before, guessing that Mr. Barnard had heard 
the story discussed in the town. Nugent was 
no coward. He had meant to tell his parents 
himself, but he had already suffered much from 
his own remorse, and he resented being judged 
without a hearing. At first she had agreed 
with this notion; but she now saw that her 
father’s bitterness was only the familiar one, 
pertaining to that “ business ” which was 
“ going to ruin ” because the last of the Bar- 
nards would not assist in saving it. Every- 
thing was in a muddle and life looked dreary 
enough. 

Presently Mrs. Barnard returned. 

“ He is nowhere in sight. It is very strange 
that he should behave so. Please take your 
father’s place, Amy, and do the best you can 
with the joint.” 

It was new work for the schoolgirl, but her 
awkwardness proved fortunate in one sense, for 
she could make fun of her own efforts and in 
some measure lessen the discomfort of the mo- 
ment. Both she and her mother were glad 
when the meal was over and they could leave 
the table, which had been made so inviting, and 
escape Rebecca’s grumbling. 


1 12 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Huh ! Don’t know what use there is try- 
ing to fix victuals tasty if nobody’s going to 
eat ’em. Them rolls so light they nigh flew 
out the window ’fore I could clap ’em in the 
oven, and only two touched, and them not half 
eat. Well, well; I hope something ’ll take a 
turn ’fore sun-up, ’less there ain’t much use 
of old Becky hobbling down here, cookin’ for 
folks won’t eat. Don’t eat, can’t live. No, 
sir.” 

“ I hate to leave you alone, Amy, but I’m 
going to sit with your father if he’ll have me. 
Rebecca, put some dinner on the hot-water 
plate for Nugent, please, and leave it on the 
range. I hope you’ll be on time to-morrow 
morning, for Mr. Barnard likes to get an early 
start. Good-night.” 

This was mutual dismissal, and both daugh- 
ter and servant so understood it. They ex- 
changed surprised glances, then Amy laughed : 

“ It’s so doleful it seems absurd, doesn’t it, 
Becky? I feel as if I were a naughty little 
girl being punished. Don’t you fret about the 
dinner. There’s so much the less to cook to- 
morrow. The roast was barely touched, and 
father always likes it cold, anyway. I’m going 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


113 

up to my room and watch by my window. If 
Nugent comes in I’ll come down and serve him 
myself. Good-night. I guess mother means 
there’s nothing more for you to do, after the 
dish-washing. I hope your ‘ skyattic ’ will 
keep away from you to-night.” 

“ Bless you, honey ! and I hope every sort of 
trouble stay away from your good heart, so I 
do. Good-night, and dream of angels all the 
dark time.” 

But as Amy passed the outer door she saw 
her mother sitting there alone, and paused. 

“ Do you want me, mother ? ” 

“ Surely. I always want you.” 

“ Father ” 

“ Was busy writing. I felt my presence 
only disturbed him.” 

The girl drew a cushion to her mother’s feet 
and dropped upon it. Resting her head on the 
arm of the chair she asked : 

“ May I talk to you, motherkin.” 

“ Yes, indeed.” 

“ About that scholarship ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ It’s such a hard, hard question. I can see 
that you will miss me and maybe Nugent, too. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


114 

Father doesn’t seem to notice either way, 
whether I’m around or not.” 

“ That’s a mistake. He is preoccupied and 
anxious. All the same you are very dear to 
him. He is well aware of your presence and 
its cheer.” 

“ It’s the one chance of my life for an edu- 
cation. If I don’t take it I shall lose it for- 
ever.” 

“ I understand your thought.” 

“ Don’t you agree with it ? ” 

“ Education does not lie along one line. 
There is a culture of life and love as well as 
of intellect.” 

“ But I love study ! Learning — to know 
things — I love it, I love it! And there is so 
much to learn. If I did the best I could I 
should only be beginning.” 

“ That’s the beautiful side of it. It is limit- 
less.” 

“ If I don’t take the scholarship, and, indeed, 
I have accepted it, I couldn’t go in any other 
way. I didn’t think whether we were poor or 
rich till this last year, but I see now there’s not 
much money. You could not afford to send 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


115 

“ No, dear, it would be impossible.” 

“ Don’t you think higher education is 
right ? ” 

“ I think it is what God means for every one 
of us.” 

“ Then why do you oppose it for me? ” 

Mrs. Barnard laughed. “ Suppose I answer 
you in Yankee fashion, by another question: 
Why do you accuse me of opposing it?” 

“ You say nothing. Or what you do 
say makes me think you do not approve. 
You look so queer and sad when it is men- 
tioned.” 

“ I wish to be as absolutely impartial as I 
can. But, Amy, put yourself in my place for 
a moment. Up till now you have been so ab- 
sorbed in study that you have been like a 
boarder in your home. I have approved of 
this fully, because I wanted you to have all the 
book-training which was needful — needful for 
you. But I look with misgiving toward a 
further absence of four years. You will be- 
come a stranger to us and will find the narrow 
life of home irksome. You have never felt 
that you could teach ; and while I do most cor- 
dially approve the fullest course of study suit- 


1 16 AN HONOR GIRL 

able — suitable — for any and every woman, I do 
not see that a college course is essential in all 
cases. There. I have said more than I in- 
tended. I have shown you one side and you 
can look upon the other. I do not wish to in- 
fluence you. Each individual soul knows its 
own necessities. Whatever your decision I 
will uphold it faithfully and do my best for 
you. Now, dear, my head is bothering me 
again. Early as it is, I think I will go to my 
room. Give Nugent his dinner when he comes 
in, and good-night.” 

Amy did not go to her room. It now 
seemed to her that to be shut within four walls 
would suffocate her. The perplexity had all 
come back, and she felt again that either course 
she chose would be the wrong one. 

“ I cannot give it up. I cannot. It would 
be my bitter regret all my life if I did. Always, 
when I felt my ignorance of any subject, it 
would come to me that this was all my own 
fault. I do suppose that mother hates to have 
me leave her; yet, after a time she would get 
used to it and not mind. At the end of the 
course I could teach, even if I did not like it, 
and so earn money to help them if this ‘ busi- 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


ii 7 

ness ’ keeps on failing. Yet — if I stay at 
home ” 

But there opened an endless vista of argu- 
ment through which Amy threaded her way as 
best she could. The dull routine of domestic 
life as opposed to the fun and competition of a 
college class ; the not too inspiriting society of 
three people whom she knew, or fancied she 
did, through and through, in place of the stim- 
ulus of a brilliant multitude; and, at the end, 
on the one hand the same economy and de- 
pendence instead of self-support and inde- 
pendence. 

Poor Amy! She had come to the darkest, 
most difficult hour of her life. If her mother 
had realized quite how hard and difficult de- 
cision seemed to her beloved child it is probable 
that she would have cast the weight of her 
opinion to settle the vexed question. As it 
was, the daughter fought her battle all alone, 
save for that Leader of whom, just then, she 
thought only that He was far away and care- 
less of her need. 

The evening passed. Nugent did not come, 
and Amy grew very tired. After a while she 
slept, and when she woke she was as refreshed 


1 1 8 AN HONOR GIRL 

as if she had rested a whole night in her own 
cosy bed. 

“ Why, what is this. The worriment is 
completely gone. How could it ever have ex- 
isted? There is but one way, and that so 
simple ! ” 

The relief and happiness were so great she 
would have liked to sing, only for waking her 
mother, whom she trusted to be sound asleep 
by then. She did not think that Nugent had 
come home, yet even that did not disturb her. 

“ He’ll come after a while. It will be all 
right. Everything will come right now. My 
father shall forget his worries; my mother — 
ah! what a wise body she is, to go away and 
leave me to myself. I am so glad, so glad. 
Now I’ll lock up. If my boy doesn’t appear 
before I’ve finished he’ll try his old trick of 
throwing pebbles against my window. Then 
I’ll come down and let him in.” 

There were no pebbles thrown and Amy’s 
sleep was deep and unbroken even by the 
dreams of angels which Becky had wished for 
her. She woke early, put her room in order 
as soon as she had finished dressing, then 
crossed to Nugent’s “ den.” He had two small 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


ll 9 

chambers for his own use, the outer one, which 
he called his “ den,” being a receptacle for all 
sorts of treasures dear to a boy’s heart, from 
fish-hooks to books, and a place wherein to 
welcome his mates without fear of damage to 
the finer furnishings below stairs. His bed- 
room opened off the “ den,” and the windows 
of both stood open. 

“ Nugent!” 

There was no answer. 

“ That’s queer. Either he must have got up 
very early or he hasn’t been in. Nugent! 
Nugent ! ” 

When to her repeated summons there was 
still no response, she crossed the “ den ” and 
peeped into the bedroom. The bed was as 
smooth as if it had just been made up, and she 
then knew that her brother had stayed out all 
night. 

“ Well, maybe that’s all right, though I don’t 
remember his ever having done so before. 
The boys sleep here sometimes, but Nugent 
likes his own home at night. He is so shy in 
strange houses. Oh ! I know ! He’s gone to 
Uncle John’s! Or so I think. Now for my 
new ‘ career.’ ” 


120 AN HONOR GIRL 

Lingering for a few moments to put away 
some scattered belongings of the absent lad, 
she surveyed the “ den ” with a critical eye. 

“ He needs another rocker. I’ve two in my 
room, a big one and a little one. ’Tisn’t good 
form to rock, anyway, so the little one will be 
sufficient to practice bad manners in. I won- 
der if that Boston woman was right who tested 
her friends’ good breeding by offering them a 
rocker, and then deciding for or against them 
as they used it. For my part, I think she was 
horrid mean to set such a temptation before 
them. I notice that my mother rarely rocks, 
yet she finds the shape of our old ‘ Plymouths ’ 
mighty comfortable to her tired back. Yes, 
Nugent shall have my pretty rattan. I’ll put 
fresh ribbons in it, if I’ve money in my purse 
to buy them, and I’ll choose them a deep 
rose-pink, just the color of his ‘ Beauties,’ if I 
can match them. I’ll do — well, I’ll do a lot of 
things, Nugent, my boy, before this summer’s 
over ! See if I don’t. Now for below stairs.” 

Mr. Barnard was in the library as she went 
along the hall, reading the morning paper. It 
was his habit to go down and unlock the doors 
before the rest of the family appeared or 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


1 2 I 


Rebecca came from her own cottage. He 
looked up at the sound of his daughter’s foot- 
steps and greeted her with a pleased surprise. 

“ Why, Amy! So early and so bright? ” 

“ Yes, father. But you’re always the earli- 
est, let me try as I will. I hope you’re rested 
this morning.” 

“ Some. Rested some, child. There is a 
rest that comes with the acceptance of the in- 
evitable. One can but do one’s best, after all. 
There, little girl, I think I hear Rebecca at 
the kitchen door.” 

It was great relief to find her father’s mood 
calmer if not much brighter than on the pre- 
vious evening; and she augured from it that 
he had found a way out of his own perplexities 
even as she had. 

“ Dear father ! I’d have liked to stay and 
talk with him a bit, but he seemed to prefer his 
paper. Well, I suppose the worries of a girl 
do, or would, seem small to those of a grown 
man. Yes, Becky, I’m coming! ” 

As the old servant entered she stared with 
surprise. 

“ To goodness knows, honey, what’s hap- 
pened ? Who’s sick ? ” 


122 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Nobody, Rebecca. And all that’s hap- 
pened is a revolution.” 

“ Pshaw! What’s that?” 

“ You’ll see if you watch out. Where do 
you keep your dusters ? ” 

“ In their places. There’s where I mostly 
keeps all my things. I ain’t like some folks, 
leavin’ their traps all over Christendom, I 
ain’t.” 

“ Temper a little crisp this morning, Becky? 
‘ Skyattic ’ still on hand ? Sorry. But never 
mind. I’m not * some folks ’ any more. I’m 
Amy, a home girl, who demands dusters at 
once before her ambition flags. I’ll save the 
motherkin and you some labor if you’ll be 
good-natured.” 

“ Meaning you’d dust that parlor withouten 
being set ? ” 

“ Meaning exactly that.” 

“ Here, then. And see you put ’em back 
right square in that cornder of this table 
drawer. Shake the dust outen ’em first, too. 
Fold ’em even. What I can’t abide is sloven- 
ness in nothing.” 

“ Rebecca ! Whenever was I a sloven? ” 

“No, honey. You’re not. Huh! Ain’t I 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


123 

raised you myself, me and Mis’ Barnard? 
And ain’t she the neatest woman in the whole 
town of Warden? You go Tong, don’t tease 
old Becky. I’ve got my breakfast to get.” 

“ Make it a good one, then, Becky. Such 
early risers need a good many worms.” 

Rebecca disdained to answer. She was not 
in the habit of feeding her household upon 
“ worms,” nor of serving anything save a most 
excellent breakfast; save and excepting such 
rare occasions as the morning of yesterday, 
when rheumatism and oversleeping got the 
better of her. Certainly it was a delicious 
meal she prepared that morning, and the fam- 
ily did the better justice to it because of their 
scant appetites of the last evening. 

Amy sang at her unaccustomed task in the 
parlor and Becky broke into one of her melo- 
dious hymns in the kitchen. Mr. Barnard in 
the library found himself listening to the 
sounds, which might have been discordant had 
they been less heartfelt, since the singers chose 
altogether different tunes, and smiling to him- 
self at the conflicting but still inspiriting 
strains. 

Even Mrs. Barnard, above, murmured a 


AN HONOR GIRL 


124 

soft accompaniment to Amy’s voice, and the 
girl, hearing her, thought with a smile of the 
ups and downs of the past few days. 

“ * Shadow and shine is life, little Annie, 
flower and thorn.’ Considerable many thorns 
lately, but I’m pulling them out now. There’s 
a mighty big one to extract after breakfast, 
though, and — well, I wish the deed were 
done!” 

Small comment was made upon Nugent’s 
non-appearance at the early meal, and Amy 
kept her own counsel. Her father and mother 
were blissfully ignorant for the moment, and 
it would be time enough for her when she had 
to answer inquiries. 

Indeed, she was wholly spared such. Mrs. 
Barnard had an errand in the town and pro- 
posed to walk thither with her husband. 

“ Do, mother. I’ll fetch your hat and para- 
sol. I want to go out myself by and by, if I 
may, and to wear my ‘ best bib and tucker.’ ” 

“ Certainly; though which is best when all 
are so simple, it would be difficult to tell. 
Well, good-morning. Be sure to come home 
to lunch. We mustn’t repeat yesterday’s ex- 
perience too often.” 


THE VALLEY OF DECISION 


125 

An hour later Amy left the house arrayed 
in her freshest gown and newest hat. Her 
face had lost something of its earlier bright- 
ness and her feet lagged somewhat as she 
turned from her own street into the broader 
avenue whereon dwelt the richer citizens of 
Warden. Her steps grew even slower as she 
came to a fine mansion sitting well back among 
stately trees and blooming shrubbery, and for 
a moment she felt as if she should turn and 
run away again. As if never, never, could she 
ascend that terrace and inquire at that distant 
door for the great personage she had come to 
see. 

Then she whispered to herself: “ Father! 
mother ! brother ! ” and as if the words were 
talismanic, sprang up the steps and rang the 
bell. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE PROFESSOR 

A tidy maid answered the summons and 
replied to Amy’s inquiry : 

“ Yes, the Professor is in. But he’s just 
ready for a drive. I’ll ask if he can receive 
you.” 

“ Oh ! he must ! ” cried the girl more to her- 
self than to the other, who smiled and disap- 
peared. “ If he doesn’t I don’t know that I 
could bring my courage up to it again. No. 
That’s not so. If I don’t see him now I shall 
come until I do. But I want it settled — 
quick!” 

Then she heard a familiar step along the 
polished floor of the wide hall, and, turning, 
was face to face with her late instructor. 

“ Why, Miss Amy ! Good-morning. Very 
pleased to see you. I’m not often favored by 
visits of pupils during holidays. Very, very 
pleased, I’m sure.” 


126 


THE PROFESSOR 


127 

Professor Gray was reputed to be the most 
absent-minded of men, and the girl had an- 
ticipated some difficulty in recalling her own 
personality to his remembrance. So many 
students were in his classes that it seemed un- 
likely he should identify any in particular, but 
she began to think this opinion a mistaken one. 
Certainly, he knew her well and met her half- 
way in her errand. 

“ Have you come about the scholarship ? ” 

“ Yes, Professor, if you have a few moments 
to spare me.” 

“ An hour, if need be. Well, my child, 
I congratulate you in private as I did in public 
upon your well-deserved honor. I foresee 
four very happy years for you.” 

A hateful lump came into Amy's throat and 
kept her silent for an instant. In the presence 
of this dignified, cultured scholar all her old 
intense longing for greater learning revived 
and made her waver in her purpose. 

But he was waiting for her to speak, and she 
had to swallow the lump and do so. 

“Yes; it is about the scholarship I've 
troubled you. I want to give it up.” 

“ You want — to give it up? ” 


128 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Yes, Professor, if you please.” 

The gentleman’s expression changed to one 
of real disappointment, and this did not make 
matters any easier for Amy, whose lip was 
trembling suspiciously. He took off his 
glasses, wiped and replaced them; then looked 
at her critically above their rims. It was a 
little mannerism so characteristic of the class- 
room, and his half-ironical amazement at an 
incorrect answer, that she felt as if she were 
again blundering, and flushed guiltily. 

“ Why, Miss Amy ? Why?” 

“ I think I am needed at home.” 

“ Hm-m. Hm-m. It is a serious question; 
one of a lifetime. Have you reflected well ? ” 

“Oh! I have— I have!” 

Again the girl’s lips trembled and there 
came such a pathetic look upon her fair face 
that a burst of tears seemed imminent. Like 
most men the Professor hated tears, and he 
saw that hers was a real regret and not the 
idle whim he had feared. He went and seated 
himself beside her on the sofa where she had 
perched as lightly as possible, and meaning to 
make good her escape as soon as the unpleas- 
ant interview was ended. Laying his hand 


THE PROFESSOR 


129 

upon hers, which were nervously clasping and 
unclasping themselves, he spoke in a tone of 
fatherly interest: 

“ Tell me all about it, little girl.” 

She could hardly believe her own ears. 
Was this the stern Professor of the Latin 
School ? She gave him one quick, keen 
glance, then broke into a torrent of words 
which left nothing hidden of all she had 
thought and suffered since Commencement 
night. When she had finished she waited a 
moment, during which he kept silence, then 
cried out again: 

“ I beg your pardon. I should not have 
said so much; but it was such a relief to talk 
to somebody — somebody outside who was un- 
prejudiced. I'll go now, Professor, and thank 
you for treating me so kindly.” 

“ Not yet, Amy. Let us talk together. In 
the first place, you are quite right. Your 
duty as an only daughter and sister, with the 
attendant circumstances, is in your home, not 
in a college. That doesn't matter so greatly 
as you think. Your education will still go on 
— in every sense. Let me consider myself 
still your instructor — among books — and I 


AN HONOR GIRL 


130 

will give you a course of reading to follow 
and any help you need.” 

“You? Why, Professor Gray, with your 
busy life I could not think of taxing you so.” 

“ My dear, my keenest happiness in life is 
to share with others what little I have learned. 
Bring me a receptive mind, as glad to take as 
I to bestow, and I shall be very thankful you 
are to stay in Warden.” 

What should impulsive Amy do but throw 
her arms about his neck and kiss him heartily ? 
then blush and drop her head, wondering how 
she had dared. 

The Professor laughed and patted the hand 
which now covered her scarlet face. 

“ That’s all right, little girl. Spontaneous 
and honest, therefore — thank you. I realize 
what your decision has cost you, but I consider 
it a wise one. Wisdom is so much greater 
than knowledge.” 

“Aren’t they one and the same?” 

“Tennyson thought not. He said: 

“ * Who loves not Knowledge ? Who shall rail 
Against her beauty ? . . . . 

But she is earthly, of the mind, 

And Wisdom heavenly, of the soul,”' 


THE PROFESSOR 


131 

Amy listened, earnestly regarding the 
speaker with a glance which led him to change 
his manner rather suddenly and to demand : 

“ Your thought, my child, for the tradi- 
tional penny? ” and laughingly drawing a coin 
from his pocket he tossed it into her lap. 

She .smiled, too, as she folded it between 
her palms and answered : 

“ Thank you for payment in advance. I 
mean to keep this always as a souvenir of 
this blessed morning. My thought was : 
Until to-day I had seen only the husk of your 
real character. Now I know you and — and 
love you.” 

“ Thank you, Amy.” 

Amy’s charm lay in her unconsciousness of 
self and in her perfect frankness. The Pro- 
fessor rose and walked to a distant window 
and looked out from it for a moment. He 
was more deeply moved than he cared to show, 
but at the end of that time turned with his 
ordinary brisk movement and came back to 
his place. 

“ One thing remains to be settled. Who 
shall be offered the scholarship ? ” 

“ That is for you to decide, of course/* 


32 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Not at all 4 of course.’ Suggest some 
one, please.” 

“ Jeannette. That’s just, I think. Her 
marks were next to mine in nearly everything, 
and it was a question of ‘ marks ’ only, I sup- 
pose.” 

“ Not wholly. Yet that is just, though 
some others ranked nearly as high.” 

“ Please offer it to Jeannette.” 

“ Come with me and do that yourself. I 
leave town on Monday for the summer vaca- 
tion, and would like to have the matter ar- 
ranged before then. My carriage is waiting, 
I believe.” 

It had been waiting, Amy knew, ever since 
she had been there, but good breeding pre- 
vented any further apology than: 

“ I’m sorry I timed my call just as I did.” 

“ Fm not sorry, since it gives me the pleas- 
ure of a little drive with you.” 

Again Amy’s wonder rose. The stern Pro- 
fessor of the school and this delightful gentle- 
man seemed two different persons. 

He added as the footman closed the door 
and stepped into his place behind them: 

“ We’re out of school now and I feel like 


THE PROFESSOR 


133 

a child. Let’s take the long way round. I’ve 
to pick up Mrs. Gray at a friend’s in the 
suburbs and would like to present you to her.” 

As they whirled along behind the pair of 
fine bays, which were what the Professor 
called his “ one extravagance,” the spirits of 
both were in unison with the glorious June 
morning, and the charming “ bits ” they 
passed by the way. Added to this was the 
pride the girl felt in thus being accounted 
worthy to share this wise man’s society in so 
new a fashion, and it seemed but a few mo- 
ments before they had reached the house 
where Mrs. Gray was visiting and she joined 
them. She proved to be as delightful and 
simple as her husband, and Amy was reminded 
of what her mother often said, that simplicity 
was always found among those of highest cul- 
ture, or breeding. 

On the way back they passed Edna Merton, 
swinging along with her racket in her hand, 
and whistling like a merry boy en route for a 
“ lark.” She glanced up, saw who they were, 
politely bowed to the Grays, made an absurd 
grimace toward Amy, and promptly sank 
down on the sidewalk as if overcome by as- 


AN HONOR GIRL 


134 

tonishment. Whereupon, her friend knew 
that the news of this drive would be spread 
broadcast among her mates and that she would 
be called upon for explanations galore. 

“ Well, they’ll all know it after a while, 
anyway,” she reflected and returned a defiant 
smile to Edna. 

They put her down at Jeannette’s gate, Mrs. 
Gray expressing her pleasure at their meeting 
and extending an invitation to visit them upon 
their return in the autumn. “ If we are back 
before you go to college,” she added, “ for I 
remember that you are ‘ the honor girl ’ who 
has achieved the scholarship.” 

“ She’s better than that. She’s a faithful 
daughter,” said the Professor, lifting his hat 
and smiling as they drove away. 

Jeannette was on the porch reading when 
the carriage stopped at the Herburn entrance. 
She had seen it coming and realized, with a 
sudden angry jealousy, who it was that had 
been now “ taken up ” by these people who 
were so well “ worth while.” 

“ Humph!” she thought; nothing suc- 
ceeds like success/ Amy Barnard has become 
a fad in Warden just now. Honor girl, 


THE PROFESSOR 


135 

scholarship-winner, life-saver — yet not one 
bit better nor cleverer than lam! I hate her. 
I wish she had left me alone when I was in 
the river. I wish — pshaw! she’s coming in 
and I’ll have to play the polite hypocrite. 
Why, I wonder! Do life-savers think it in- 
cumbent upon them to visit their — their vic- 
tims?” 

But Amy had reached the steps and Jean- 
nette could no longer pretend not to see her. 
Yet, being by nature honest and hating to 
affect a welcome she did not feel, she came 
forward slowly. 

The visitor had been quick to note the hesi- 
tation, and saved her classmate further awk- 
wardness by exclaiming: 

“ Good-morning, Jeannette ! Aren’t you 
surprised to see me in the Professor’s car- 
riage? If anybody had told me a few hours 
ago what would befall me to-day I wouldn’t 
have believed him. But, Jeannette, he’s just 
a dear ! ” 

“ Indeed ? I shouldn’t have used that ad- 
jective in describing him. Will you sit 
down ? ” 

“ Of course. Thank you. You certainly 


AN HONOR GIRL 


136 

have a pretty view from this point of the old 
river and Gay’s Island. But it fits — the 
adjective, I mean. And you’re wondering 
why I cqme, uninvited. Well, just to tell you 
that I’ve given up that scholarship and it is 
yours, if you will take it.” 

Jeannette’s eyes opened to their widest and 
for an instant filled with amazed delight. 
Then as instantly clouded with resentment. 

“ Thank you — for nothing. If I wasn’t 
worthy of it in the beginning I’ve no mind to 
accept a second-hand honor.” 

“ Oh, Jeannette ! There was but the slight- 
est difference in our rating, and if the trifling 
balance was on my side, what matter? The 
scholarship is yours, if you’ll have it.” 

“ And I tell you again I will not.” 

“ It will go to Grace Winslow, then.” 

“ That simpleton ! ” 

“ She stood third. She’s a good student.” 

“ And a rattle-brained gossip. Thinks 
more of those stupid ‘ Poly boys ’ and her 
clothes than of her school standing.” 

“ That proves how clever she is. She could 
always count on her quickness in learning to 
put off study hour.” 


THE PROFESSOR 


137 

“ Why do you give up this college chance 
yourself ? What’s wrong with it ? ” 

“ Jeannette, do you suppose I like to give it 
up ? Don’t you know I want to go — with the 
selfish side of me? Oh! how I have wanted 
and how hard it has been to make up my mind. 
Yet, it’s made now and shan’t be ripped open, 
if I can help it. There’s nothing wrong with 
it. It includes the fullest advantages. You 
must take it. You must! with your fine mind 
and your ambition it’s a chance not to be lost.” 

“ Amy, why did you give it up ? ” 

“ Because I’m the only daughter and am 
needed. That’s all, that’s the only ‘ why,’ 
and, if you please, I’d rather not discuss it. 
But you ” 

Jeannette interrupted. “ Why did you 
think of me first? I’ve never liked you nor 
treated you right. You know that. In your 
place I would have kept such a chance from 
such a girl as I forever, if it had been in my 
power.” 

“ You do yourself injustice. You’re a bit 
angry now, but that will pass. You’ve always 
wanted a higher education, and you have a 
lot of sisters who do not care for one and will 


AN HONOR GIRL 


I3S 

stay in your home, I don’t know them, 
hardly, but it seems — of course, it’s for you 
to decide.” 

There was no resisting Amy’s determined 
sweetness and patience. Jeannette’s proud 
jealousy suddenly gave way, and, clasping her 
hands rigidly, as if to repress herself, she cried 
out: 

“ Oh ! I want it, I want it ! Yes, there 
are a lot of us, a silly, worldly lot. Only the 
little ones are unspoiled still. My stepmother 
is all for society and dress. She has brought 
us up to make a show of ourselves and is not 
pleased because I care for books. I should 
never have had even the Latin School if it 
hadn’t been for a greataunt. She’s paid my 
tuition there, but can do no more. Amy, for- 
give me! I’ve been so hateful — -but I’ll show 
you ! This means a new life to me. It means 
so much. Oh, I can’t talk. I’m too full.” 

“ I’m so glad, Jeannette. As glad as if I 
were going myself, almost. I must get home 
now and tell mother. She doesn’t know, and 
she’ll be as happy to keep me as you are to 
go. Put on your hat, won’t you? we’ll walk 
as far as Professor Gray’s together, and the 


THE PROFESSOR 


139 

next time you see me tell me if you haven’t 
found him the ‘ dear ’ I said.” 

At his gate they parted, and once more Jean- 
nette’s proud spirit stooped itself, as she 
begged in a half-audible voice : 

“ Forgive me, Amy! I wish I could undo 
the past ! ” 

But the girl who smiled and walked home- 
ward? It came over her now with startling 
force that she had forever put it out of her 
power to acquire that u higher culture ” she 
craved, and again the tormenting question 
arose : Is it wise for any individual soul to 
sacrifice its best for a doubtful good to others ? 


CHAPTER X 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 

One morning, a few weeks later than Amy's 
visit to the Professor, Edna Merton, attended 
by a groom, was riding along the shaded river 
road, taking that exercise her anxious invalid 
grandmother declared the girl needed, and 
which she would have enjoyed well enough 
had she any other companion save the solemn, 
gray-headed Peter. As it was, she was Reel- 
ing the loneliness and isolation of being the 
richest girl in her set, and was regarding the 
ripples breaking on the shore with a counte- 
nance as nearly downcast as Edna ever wore. 
Raising her eyes at a turn in the way, she saw 
something ahead which banished the depres- 
sion and sent her clattering forward at 
Johnny’s swiftest pace. The sight was that 
of a lad on a limping farm horse, which had 
been proceeding at a snail’s gait, and which 
was now turned aside out of the path without 
its rider raising his own downbent head. 


140 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 141 

“ I bid you good-morrow, Sir Cat ! ” 

As the chestnut reined up alongside, Nugent 
raised his eyes and muttered : 

“ Edna Merton, of all people ! ” 

“ Exactly. At your service, Cavalier. How 
goes it? ” 

“ Well enough.” 

“ Thank you. You retain your old urban- 
ity, I perceive.” 

“ Humph!” 

“ Beg pardon?” 

“ I say your groom looks impatient. His 
horse is fretting.” 

“ So are you, though your horse isn’t. Be- 
sides, a groom’s preferences aren’t to be com- 
pared to your own. Confess, you’re delighted 
to see me.” 

“ I’m too truthful.” 

“ I saw Amy a half-hour ago. She grows 
prettier and lovelier every day. Prettiness 
applying to the outside and loveliness to the 
inside of her. You’re an awful goose — or 
gander.” 

“ Thanks. Please ride on. Your horse 
needs exercise.” 

“ Yours doesn’t, and I don’t care to ride 


AN HONOR GIRL 


142 

on. I’d rather talk to you. I was lone- 
some.” 

Nugent said nothing. A stolid expression 
settled on his face, now tanned and sunburned 
almost beyond recognition. He flicked a fly 
from his horse and studied the road again. 

“ I said I was lonesome.” 

. Again no response. 

“I said I was lonesome! Don’t you hear? 
Or have you caught Mr. Growden’s deaf- 
ness ? ” 

“ I heard. I didn’t know that deafness was 
infectious. Is it?” 

“ Apparently. Talk to me.” 

“ Old Peter ’ll talk to you, directly.” 

Edna faced about and suggested : 

“ You go forward, Peter, as fast as you 
please. Mr. Barnard will look after me.” 

“ I didn’t say ” protested Nugent. 

“ No. But you’re a gentleman and you 
know my grandmother doesn’t like me to ride 
unattended.” 

Nugent smiled, but still kept silence. 

Edna demanded: “Why don’t you be- 
have? You know you like me, and I know 
you like me, and Amy knows you like me. 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 143 

That’s how I know you know you do. She 
told me.” 

“ People change their opinions.” 

“ You’re not that sort? ” 

“ How do you know ? ” 

“ Because, if you were you’d have gone 
home long ago.” 

“ And lived in idleness ? ” 

“ Not a minute. Put your shoulder to the 
wheel and helped your father.” 

Nugent’s face flushed. “ What ” he 

began, then checked himself. 

“ What — is that to me? A good deal. I’m 
a friend of the family. I love to see my 
friends happy. At present none of the 
Barnards are, save my 4 honor girl,’ whose 
virtue is its own reward. She’s just bloom- 
ing. She’d be more blooming if her un- 
worthy brother would come to his senses.” 

“ He has. He has, at last, found his place 
in the world.” 

“ Riding farmer Growden’s old Doll ? 
Well, I don’t envy you your 4 place.’ Her 
back’s a regular valley between two hills. 
Her action — upon my word, I’d rather go 
afoot.” 


144 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ So would I. I mean I would if I weren't 
too plaguy tired.” 

“Tired? How can that be possible, since 
farming is a life of constant hilarious fun? 
And when one can ride instead of walk? ” 

“ Come, Ned, I’m in no mood for nonsense.” 

The old boyish nickname which suited her 
so well touched her heart. She had been 
Amy’s closest intimate and had known the 
shy, self-conscious lad better than any other 
of the girls had done. She was so full of 
gayety, so free from airs, so wholly unspoiled 
by her position of heiress, that he could not 
help but like her almost as well as if she had 
been a boy. She now dropped her bantering 
manner and became wholly serious. 

“ Neither am I, Nugent. I was as blue — as 
blue as that forget-me-not yonder in that low 
field. I was dreading going away.” 

“ Are you going? ” 

“ Of course. When did my dear old lady 
ever stay in one place more than three months 
at a time? As long as I was in school she al- 
lowed me to be a permanent, but now — heigh- 
ho ! I’m a ‘ bud ’; an exceedingly small, I mean 
undeveloped, ‘ bud,’ sickbed o’er with green 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 145 

moss and school books. The developing proc- 
ess is to begin immediately. Grandmother has 
been to every resort on this continent, and 
some on another, and has decided that for my 
greenness and her liver trouble, Saratoga’s the 
spot. I hate it. I’ve begged hard for another 
year of quiet, just to get my courage up, but 
she declines. She says I look — well, I don’t 
look well and she must brace me up after all 
my hard study ! Me ! Brace me ! I and 
study ! I wish the Professor could have heard 
her! As for Amy, she laughed till she cried 
when I told her how delicate I was.” 

Nugent looked round and also laughed. 
There was never a more radiant picture of 
health than the large, well-developed girl be- 
side him, who sat her horse as easily as if 
it had been his own mother’s comfortable 
“ Plymouth ” rocker. She was not nearly as 
handsome as Jeannette nor as daintily win- 
ning as Amy; but the candor and friendliness 
of her big blue eyes challenged the friendli- 
ness of others, and the firm grasp of her big, 
white hand was but suggestive of her own 
integrity. 

“ You’ll have a good time.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


146 

“ Yes. I should have to have a good time 
wherever I was. I’m not a moper. But I’d 
rather choose the sort of a good time I 
want.” 

“ I don’t see how you can grumble. With 
more money than you know what to do 
with ” 

“ You blessed goo — gander — Cat ! I never 
have a cent in my pocket. Never.” 

“ Your own fault, then.” 

“ Does that make it any easier ? If I can’t 
keep hold of my dollars, if they will go spend 
themselves without asking my leave, that’s my 
misfortune. Do you know that all through 
our school time together, I’ve had to borrow, 
about every month, from your sister Amy? 
And she had little enough, in all conscience.” 

“ You needn’t twit me about that! ” 

“ Who’s a twitting, Mumblegump? Now 
isn’t your mother’s son ashamed of himself? ” 

“ Yes, Ned, I am. There’s nothing petty 
about you.” 

“ Thank you, Nugent,” answered the girl 
gently. “ You know, you do know, that I hate 
this money business. I should like to have 
everybody equal, one girl to have no more than 



“ Let’s rest a few minutes and let the horses drink.” 

P(uje 147. 









THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 147 
another. If I had forty sisters to share it with 


“ There wouldn’t be watering places enough 
to go around. Fancy poor Madam Merton 
with forty Ednas on her hands.” 

“ I couldn’t fancy it. There wouldn’t be 
any darling old Grandma left. Ah, there’s 
the watering trough. Let’s rest a few minutes 
and let the horses drink. Mine’s not too warm 
and yours ” 

“ Nothing will hurt old Doll. She’d rather 
stand and drink all day than travel a rod.” 

At this Edna’s conscience woke. “ Would 
Mr. Growden rather have her? ” 

“ No. You’re right. I must hurry back — 
as fast as hurry is possible. This is the third 
time I’ve ridden into town to-day. All on that 
colt business, too. Three of them have never 
been found, and he’s sued all the boys’ fathers. 
I don’t know about the law, but he doesn’t 
mean to be cheated of his money, or his colts.” 

“ I heard that they told, themselves.” 

“ Yes. The boys were straight enough. It’s 
horrid, though, that if a fellow does the least 
little thing out of the way he has to suffer so 
much for it. There’s no justice in the world,” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


148 

Edna was inclined to give a flippant answer, 
but, on looking toward Nugent, saw that he 
was in a mood to need sympathy rather than 
ridicule. 

“ There, Johnny ! You’ve had enough. So 
has old Doll. Let’s jog on again, and, while 
we jog, Nugent, tell me all about it. From 
the time you ran away ” 

“ I didn’t run. I went, simply without say- 
ing a word. I hate a fuss and I knew there’ d 
be one.” 

“ And the next day you wrote Amy that 
you’d got a place on a farm and wouldn’t come 
home again until your father asked you.” 

“ She told you ? Girls can’t keep anything 
to themselves.” 

“ Amy couldn’t keep that, though she didn’t 
tell, Mr. Accuser! She just went down to the 
arbor at the foot of the garden and cried her- 
self blind and told nobody. And your poor 
mother sent me there to comfort her — or to 
know the reason why I couldn’t — and there 
she was, the splendid, noble unselfish girl — and 
there was your wretched old letter on the grass 
and I picked it up and read it. So then, as the 
children say. I warned her that I was going to 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 149 

read it, and she just mumbled : ‘ I don't care. 
I don't care. I don't care about anything. I've 
done it all for nothing.’ Even my precious 
Amy isn’t a beauty when she’s weeping, and to 
have it come right on the top of her grand 
deed ! You — you ought to be — to be licked by 
kittens, Sir Cat! Oh, I just hated you then. 
Didn’t your ears burn ? ” 

“ I presume so. They burn most of the 
time, for the sun’s very hot, and that was my 
first morning working in it.” 

“ You’re not clear in your remarks. The 
Professor would correct you. You don’t work 
in the sun but in the sunshine. I do wish 
you’d be particular. I hate to rub the gloss off. 
my own learning by associating with igno- 
ramuses.” 

“ She didn’t answer the letter. She didn’t 
care.” 

“ I — I’d like to make a horrid face at you, 
you mean boy ! She wasn’t allowed to answer 
it. You might have guessed that, being as 
well acquainted with the Barnard family as 
you are. For, of course, Amy said I could 
show it to your mother; and she showed it to 
your father; and your father is an honorable, 


AN HONOR GIRL 


150 

self-respecting gentleman, who said : 4 Let the 
silly boy come to his senses and come home. 
Don’t answer it, daughter, I’ll see Mr. Grow- 
den myself and arrange matters with him. If 
Nugent prefers to rise at four o’clock instead 
of seven, and eat fried pork and hominy in- 
stead of Becky’s good food, allow him his 
preference. It’s sometimes wise to give an un- 
ruly lad his own head.’ Oh ! you made a lot of 
happiness for the Barnard household, Mister 
Farmer ! And after all Amy did for you, too.” 

“ Humph ! That’s one side of it. Mine is 
the other side.” 

“ Let’s hear it. I knew there was some- 
thing misunderstood. Tell me, boy, and I’ll 
never call you ‘ Cat ’ again — if I can remem- 
ber not.” 

“ ’Tisn’t very pleasant to be misjudged.” 

“ It’s horrid.” 

“Am I the only person in the world who 
ever made a slip? or did something of which 
he was heartily ashamed and will never, never 
repeat ? ” 

Edna thought her friend’s indignation re- 
deemed his face from its ordinary plainness. 
Her unconquerable love of fun made her long 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 15 1 

to set his crooked sentence straight for him, 
but his sincerity prevented, and again her 
gentler, better mood prevailed: 

“ Can’t you tell me about it, Nugent?” 

“ I’d like to tell somebody. I never had a 
chance to explain even to Amy. I was going 
to tell them both, my father and mother I 
mean, but he came home so angry and taunted 
me with it without giving me the shadow of a 
chance.” 

Edna felt no inclination toward mirth now. 
The lad was in bitter trouble. She saw that 
and longed, intensely, to help him. As she 
had said, she was lonely. An only, orphaned 
grandchild in the stately, silent home of an in- 
valid grandmother; almost unrestricted in the 
use of money, but cut off by her very abun- 
dance of it from the intimate friendship of 
most of her mates. The girls of Warden were 
few of them able, when not in the equality of 
the classroom, to keep from their thoughts or 
manner their consciousness of this difference in 
station — as they were pleased to call it. Only 
Amy and Nugent, being themselves simple and 
valuing wealth lightly, had entered into Edna’s 
home life and taken her into theirs. To her, 


AN HONOR GIRL 


152 

the young Barnards typified what a brother 
and sister might be like, and she loved them so 
dearly that their troubles became her own. 
It was to her as if her own brother had lived 
and were needing her sympathy now. 

“ Nugent, you can trust me, can’t you? I 
am as true as Amy to your interests. Tell 
me.” 

“ Very well. I shall be glad to. But 
though I may some time give you leave, don’t 
you repeat what I say to anybody until then. 
Will you promise that?” 

Edna hesitated. “ I’d rather give away any- 
thing I possess than a promise. The moment 
I promise things — everything seems to say: 
‘ Tell.’ I guess I won’t promise. I’d rather 
you left it to my judgment. No, you needn’t 
frown. I’ve a little bit, even if I do laugh at 
folks. Besides, I’m not laughing at you, Nu- 
gent Barnard. I’m sorry for you, or rather, 
I sympathize with you. I’m forever doing 
bad things myself. Sometimes I may ask you 
to reciprocate.” 

“ You odd girl. But I trust you. Well, 
then, here goes. Edna, I — I ” 

He paused so long that the corners of the 


THE PLAIN SPEECH OF A FRIEND 153 

girl’s lips curled, but she pulled them down 
and, fortunately, Nugent was not looking at 
her. He was looking anywhere else in 
preference. 

“ Yes, Nugent.” 

“ Some of the fellows met me and we went 
fishing that evening. One of them fell in and 
somebody else proposed a drink of liquor. I’d 
never tasted any and they guyed me. I hate 
ridicule. I took a little and — it went to my 
head. I guess I didn’t know what I was about. 
Well, Amy behaved like a queen. She never 
let on nor told mother. Then father came 
home next night and accused me, openly, be- 
fore them all. I couldn’t stand that, you know, 
so I came here and hired out to old Growden 
for all summer, and maybe all the year. 
Now, call me Cat or anything else contempt- 
ible you please. I deserve it.” 

“ No. I shan’t call you anything worse 
than — simpleton. ” 

“ Edna Merton ! Oh, I was a simpleton, 
indeed, to trust you ! ” 

“ Thank you. Well, you are one, all right. 
Do you suppose, can you for one moment 
possibly imagine, a gentleman as courteous, a 


AN HONOR GIRL 


154 

husband as kind, a father as tender, as Mr. 
Barnard, humiliating his only son like that? 
I can’t. There’s some mistake. It was only 
the old, old grievance that you wouldn’t be a 
merchant and help him save the business. Oh ! 
you ninny ! After all Amy was doing for you, 
most of all for just you , mean you ! It’s too 
bad. It’s too unjust.” 

“ What do you mean ? What has Amy 
done?” 

“ Goodness ! If I had such an ungrateful 
brother as you I’d put him in a sanitarium for 
idiots, if there is such a place.” 

“ Thank you. We both seem to be getting 
to the root of things, airing our real opinions 
of each other most thoroughly.” 

“ It’s not a case for sarcasm. It’s a case for 
getting down in this dusty road and covering 
your head with the dirt, ashes not being con- 
venient. What has she done ? Why, nothing. 
Nothing — only to give up the college course 
she coveted beyond anything to stay at home 
and be good — to make a little earthly paradise 
— for you! Oh, I’m glad I’ve no brother 
after all ! ” And with a cut of the whip on 
Johnny’s flank she galloped away. 


CHAPTER XI 


AT THE STOCK FARM 

“Whew!” ejaculated Nugent, and looked 
after the retreating figure in amazement. 
“ Would Amy do such a thing as that — for 
me? I can’t believe it.” 

But whether he would believe it or not the 
statement set him thinking more profoundly 
than was his habit. 

“ I must go home and see her even if I do 
nobody else. Hello! Here comes that mad- 
cap back again.” 

Edna had ridden but a short distance ahead 
before she remembered just why she happened 
to be going in that direction, and that Nugent 
could help her in the errand upon which she 
had been sent. So she wheeled Johnny about 
and again took up her place beside the sober 
old Doll. 

“ You had no right to put things out of my 
head like that, Nugent Barnard.” 

“ I thought I was rid of you.” 


155 


AN HONOR GIRL 


156 

“ You’re not. I’m going straight to the 
stock farm with you.” 

“ Edna ! I protest. Mr. Growden will think 
I have been loafing with a girl.” 

“ Haven’t you? Never mind. He’ll not 
fret over you. Look at me. Besides being a 
‘ bud ’ I’m a young woman of business. Fact. 
Grandma says she’ll let me begin to do things. 
Look after her affairs and my own. I’m on 
her affairs now; to see about boarding the 
horses this season. Peter usually attends to 
this and isn’t pleasant because I’m set to do 
it. I shall like business much better than study 
or society, I think. But I wish I could pack 
Johnny in my trunk so that when I get too 
tired of being a grown-up young lady I could 
mount him and ride away. Grandma is going 
to send the carriage horses to the Growdens’ 
this year as well as the saddlers. I’m to make 
a bargain. Tell me, please, how much ought 
she pay apiece ? ” 

“ Doesn’t Peter know ? ” 

“ Of course. But I’m not Peter and I 
don’t.” 

“ Ten dollars for pasture, and oats occa- 
sionally. Twelve for stable board. You 


AT THE STOCK FARM 


157 

should have their shoes taken off when they 
run on grass. It’s good for their feet.” 

“ All but Johnny’s. I want him kept in 
shape for riding every day, and you to ride 
him.” 

“ Why, Ned! I wouldn’t like to do that. 
Besides, I’d have no time. I get up at four, 
then milk — or try to milk; clean the stables, 
harness and unharness, ride the mowing ma- 
chine or hay-rake, pitch hay, show off stock to 
purchasers. Oh, I’m a busy Nugent these 
days. I’m not eating any bread of idleness at 
present. Not much.” 

“ Do you like it ? ” 

“ If it were all right at home I think I 
should. It’s awful hard work, and I get so 
tired I can’t even think, sometimes. The sun 
scorches me till I smart and my head gets 
buzzing frightfully. But there’s no hanging 
back where old Growden is.” 

“ Say Mr. Growden, please.” 

“Why? You’re not over-particular your- 
self. You said ‘ Growdens ’ just now.” 

“ All the same don’t you do it. You’ve got 
to prove to Mr. Barnard that a farmer can be 
as well bred as a merchant.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


153 

“ Does he doubt it ? ” 

“ I don’t know. I wish you wouldn’t ask 
questions. Just mind and be happy. Mind 
about Johnny, too. Poor Johnny! with no- 
body to ride him. Listen to me. I’ve a no- 
tion.” 

“ Humph!” 

“ Your employer has offered a reward 
for those stray colts. I saw the placard 
in the post office this morning. You try 
for it.” 

“ It won’t do him any good. The Horse 
Thief Detective Society has been at work ever 
since they disappeared, and nothing came of 
it. They have abandoned the search for the 
time being. If they failed it’s not likely I 
should succeed.” 

“ Nugent, isn’t it queer and sort of awful, 
really awful, how fast little things grow into 
big ones ? ” 

“ What especially?” 

“ That colt business, for one. It seemed the 
veriest trifle of nonsense when those boys let 
the creatures loose to scare us girls, and no- 
body dreamed that there would be any trouble 
in driving them back again. See what’s come 


AT THE STOCK FARM 


159 

of it. Then your acting so badly. When you 
rushed away from your home, so angry, it was 
only a few steps between your room and the 
gate, yet now it seems impossible for you to 
go back over those few steps. Nugent, I wish 
you would, though. It’s going to get harder 
all the time.” 

“ I mean to see Amy. I mean to try to per- 
suade her to go to college after all. What 
good will she gain by staying at home ? Even 
if she did it, in part for me, how will it help? 
I shan’t go home to live until I’m treated right. 
I’m just as much of a Barnard as my father is, 
and he’ll find that out some time.” 

“ Fiddlesticks ! That college business is an- 
other of the little things which grow so big 
all in a minute. Amy can’t go now, even if 
she would. She’s put it out of her power. 
She’s handed over the scholarship to Jeannette 
Herburn and has offered to help get the girl 
ready to take her place. In some things, some 
studies, she was behind Amy at school, and 
Amy’s going to help her review and pick up. 
She’s even offered to help with the sewing, if 
necessary, but I reckon the Herburns will have 
too much pride to allow that. Jeannette is so 


AN HONOR GIRL 


160 

happy over her prospects and now loves Amy 
as dearly as she — as she didn’t before. Pro- 
fessor Gray was lovely to your sister, too, and 
commended her for being a daughter first and 
a scholar afterward. Amy didn’t tell that part, 
but Mrs. Gray told grandmother at her part- 
ing call. Heigh-ho ! there’s the farm and I’m 
not half through talking yet.” 

“ Should you ever be ? ” 

“ That sounds rude and — Cat-tish.” 

“ I feel both. I’m dreadfully cut up that 
Amy should miss Wellesley.” 

“ Then do what you can to make her happy 
here.” 

“ I can’t go home. I’ve ” 

“ ‘ Nobody asked you, sir, she said.’ Going 
home in your present spirit would only make 
bad matters worse. But you’ll go and be good 
after a while, when milking and haying and ris- 
ing at four a. m. have had time to pall on your 
appetite. About Johnny: I’m in earnest. I 
do wish you’d take him and use him for your- 
self. I’ll tell Mr. Growden I request it. If you 
could I would love to have you teach Amy to 
ride. I’ll send my saddle to your house, and if 
you could get a horse here, sometimes, you 


AT THE STOCK FARM 161 

could meet and be happy. You owe it to that 
darling girl to treat her square.” 

“ And I owe you a good deal, too, Ned. 
There’s ‘ the makings of a splendid boy ’ 
spoiled in you, as Becky would say.” 

“ There’s spoiled boy enough in you, sir, 
but I don’t see the splendid part. I should, 
though, if you’d go home in the right way; say 
you’re sorry, explain to the father, or let Amy 
for you, kiss the wrinkles off your mother’s 
sweet face — then come back here and work out 
your penance to the bitter end. Oh, Nugent, 
if you’d do that I should feel as if my morn- 
ing’s missionary work were not in vain. In 
dead earnest, lad, won’t you ? ” 

Nugent’s only answer was to slip off from 
Doll and open the gate. Peter could be seen 
walking his own horse up and down in front 
of the farmhouse porch where Mr. Growden 
sat nearly all of every day when his rheuma- 
tism allowed. This porch commanded a view 
of a great part of the farm and a sharp-toned 
whistle lay at the master’s hand. A blast upon 
this reached the most distant field, reminding 
the toilers that a keen eye was upon them and 
that any loitering would be scored against 


1 62 AN HONOR GIRL 

them. For Grover Growden was a hard, if 
just man, paying and exacting the last cent 
that was his due. 

Edna could not but contrast his harsh, 
weather-beaten face with the urbane counte- 
nance of Nugent’s own father and wonder 
afresh how any boy, in his senses, could ex- 
change the one master for the other. 

“ I fancy it’s ‘ go do it ! ’ with this man, and 
‘ will you, please ? ’ with the other. Poor, silly 
Nugent!” thought the girl; then addressed 
herself courteously to the farmer, who replied 
rather brusquely, and with an inquiring glance 
in the direction of the impatient Peter. 

“ Come about boarding the horses, have 
you? Hm-m. Your folks have generally sent 
a man to deal with me.” 

“ They’ve sent me this time, Mr. Growden. 
There are the carriage span, the bay that 
Peter’s riding, and my Johnny, here. The 
last to be kept on full feed and well-shod, and 
is to be for the use of either Nugent or Amy 
Barnard, but for that of nobody else. Please 
state your terms.” 

“ You take Doll round to the south hay- 
field and hitch her to the rake. You’d ought 


AT THE STOCK FARM 163 

to have been back an hour ago,” ordered the 
old man as Nugent still waited on the drive, 
listening to Edna’s first business talk. 

“ Very well, sir,” he replied, lifting his 
coarse hat and waking Doll from the nap into 
which she had fallen. 

“ And since you’ve dawdled so long you can 
make up the time at the dinner hour. I know 
to a minute how long it takes to go and come 
from my lawyer’s office. Men that hire 
to me have to keep up to their contracts. 
You’ll find that out after another fortnight, 
I guess.” 

The blood rushed to Nugent’s blond face — 
or that had once been blond — till it seemed it 
would ooze through the skin, but he shut his 
lips grimly, and obeyed. 

“ Well, miss, my price for boarding three of 
your horses will be fifteen dollars a month 
each. For this chestnut, treated as you want, 
eighteen.” 

“ Is that your price to everybody, Mr. Grow- 
den ? ” asked Edna, when she had recovered 
from her astonishment. 

The farmer glanced toward Peter, who 
seemed uneasy, and asked : 


AN HONOR GIRL 


164 

“ Isn’t that what you’ve always paid, 
groom ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Then I think grandmother will look else- 
where.” 

A change came over the farmer’s face. He 
did not like losing any chance of money mak- 
ing, and knew that the keep of the horses would 
rather enrich than injure his land. As Edna 
turned Johnny about to ride away, he tem- 
porized : 

“ What did you expect to pay, Miss 
Merton?” 

The girl noticed a distinct increase of re- 
spect in his manner, and answered promptly : 

“ Ten dollars each for three and twelve for 
Johnny.” 

“ Hm-m. Well, as your grandmother is an 
old patron, I’ll split the difference, and call it 
twelve-fifty for the three and fifteen for this 
one.” 

“ No, Mr. Growden, I’ve been informed that 
what I offer is fair and the average price. I’m 
taking hold of my grandmother’s business for 
her, now that I am out of school, and mean to 
do it as well as I can. Good-morning.” 


AT THE STOCK FARM 165 

“ Hold on. Don’t be so testy. I’ll take ’em 
at what you say. Peter will have to look out 
for himself, I can’t bother. When will you 
send them ? ” 

Edna named the time, bowed, and rode out 
of the yard. Peter followed at a respectful 
distance, seeming not half as impatient as he 
had been before; but Edna soon reined in and 
waited for him to come alongside. 

“ I’m rather puzzled, Peter. What does all 
this mean ? ” 

“ Sure, Miss Edna, it’s no more than all the 
coachmen do. It’s a part of our ‘ perg,’ you 
know. When we work for folks as rich as 
you we always plan with the traders that way. 
I— I ” 

“ Yes, you, Peter. What is your habit? ” 

“ Well, miss, you see, ten dollars is right; 
but because I do all the business part of it I — 
well, I charge according. That’s all. It’s the 
usual way.” 

“ It will be the ‘ usual way ’ no longer at my 
grandmother’s home, good Peter. We like 
you and I’m not going to blame you very much 
this time. Still, you’re a man, aren’t you ? ” 

“ Yes, Miss Edna; even if only a coachman.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


1 66 

“ Very well. See that you conduct yourself 
like one ! ” 

At home the girl burst into her grand- 
mother’s room, indignant and yet exultant, and 
out came the whole story, without preface. 

“ Peter cheated me ? You tell me that Peter, 
whom I thought the soul of honesty, has been 
using me like this ? ’Tisn’t the money so much, 
it’s that he should have the conscience to do it.” 

“ Don’t you worry, grandma dear. Time 
for that is past. It’s all due to my precious 
* honor girl ’ that there’s going to be a refor- 
mation. If I hadn’t complained to her about 
being such a useless creature I should never 
have thought of this business notion. She said, 
you know, that it was common talk how every 
tradesman imposed on you, and that if she was 
going to be useful in her home and a faithful 
daughter, I had just as great a chance here. 
That’s why I asked you to let me try. You 
sick in your room and everything trusted to 
servants, of course you were cheated. Oh! 
I’m so proud of myself. And see here, grand- 
mother! Suppose we start a little box, you 
and I, and call it our poor box. Every time we 
save something, as I did this morning, we’ll 


AT THE STOCK FARM 167 

put the savings into it and then there’ll always 
be a fund on hand, no matter if I do come 
short in other ways. What do you say ? ” 

“ Yes, of course. You are pleasing me 
greatly; at the same time, let me do a little of 
the ‘ supposing.’ Suppose that so good a busi- 
ness person turns a new leaf and from now on 
lives within her allowance ? What a ‘ reforma- 
tion ’ that would be, just — supposing!” 

“ Grandma, sweet, let’s change the subject. 
Look out the window, please. There comes 
Amy, this minute. Isn’t she the daintiest crea- 
ture in the world ? ” 

Madam Merton was rather a worldly old 
lady. At least she was exceedingly fond of 
dress and, in her days of health, had been a 
leader in society; and what struck her most 
forcibly about the approaching girl was less 
her delicate prettiness than a certain air of 
style which made her simple attire seem the 
perfection of the tailor’s art. 

“ She is a wonderfully stylish girl. She is 
distingue. She carries herself admirably. 
She — Edna, dear ! She has given me an 
idea. Quick ! go bring her in ! ” 


CHAPTER XII 


THE USE OF A TALENT 

Madam Merton went straight to the point. 
As soon as the ordinary salutations were over 
she demanded : 

“Amy Barnard, where did you get your 
style ? ” 

Amy blushed and stammered : “ Why, 

Madam, I — I don’t know; that is, if I really 
have any.” 

“ You must know that you have. I should 
know it in your place and be proud enough of 
it. Come closer, please. That frock is 
nothing but cheap pique, just as I thought. 
But, by the cut and wearing of it, might have 
come from the best establishment in the coun- 
try. Who made it?” 

“ My mother,” answered the girl proudly; 
though she well knew that the fashionable old 
lady before her would have disdained herself 
to handle a needle. 


168 


THE USE OF A TALENT 169 

“Your mother! Oh! Well, all I can say 
is that she’s a genius. But I hoped for a dif- 
ferent answer. I hoped you could tell me the 
name of a decent dressmaker. Of course, 
there are plenty of the trade in Warden, but 
nobody can wear their things outside this 
town. I want to go right through to the 
Springs without stopping in New York, and 
Edna must have some clothes. She’s a sight 
now. She hasn’t an atom of style, anyway.” 

“ Grandma, sweet, what is — * style ’ ? ” 

“ It’s — a difficult thing to explain. You 
and Amy place yourselves before that mirror 
and observe the contrast. Your clothes must 
have cost ten times as much as hers, yet — oh, 
dear ! I am disappointed.” 

“ Come along, Amy. I’m not afraid. I’d 
rather anyhow that you were the most admired 
of the two. Yes, there is a difference. Grand- 
mother, do try to explain it. Please. It’s 
just possible I may acquire it.” 

“ I doubt that. It’s a thing born in one, 
not acquired. But, at least, one may aim 
towards it. Let me see ; upright bearing, 
shoulders well set, self-respect in every line, 
simplicity, and a perfect fitness of things. For 


AN HONOR GIRL 


170 

instance, Amy’s simple costume is just suited 
to a morning call; while you, as soon as you 
threw off your riding habit, crawled into a 
half-worn silk.” 

“ Grandmother, you must be able to see 
through the ceiling. How did you know I 
‘ threw ’ and f crawled ’ ? ” 

“ Because I know you, dear. But, Amy, 
I’m in trouble. I wish you could help me 
out.” 

“ I should be very glad, though I don’t see 
how I could.” 

“ Edna tells me you are a clever artist.” 

“ Why, Ned ! What an exaggeration. All 
your friends are paragons, of course, but I’m 
no ‘ artist.’ ” 

Edna went to a cabinet in the corner and 
brought back some well executed pen-and-ink 
sketches, likenesses, and caricatures, but all 
evidently the work of one hand. 

“ Here’s a sample, grandma ; but what are 
you driving at ? ” 

“ At a fitting wardrobe for you, child. The 
fashion books give little aid, for their patterns 
are too ornate, yet a dressmaker will follow 
them implicitly. They can sew well enough, 


THE USE OF A TALENT 


171 

it isn’t that; but they are themselves provincial. 
They know nothing outside of Warden and 
they made Edna look a dowdy.” 

Amy laughed. “ I’m provincial, then, for I 
know nothing outside of Warden.” 

Madam shrugged her shoulders. 

“ You have intelligence.” 

“ She has intelligence enough to apply her 
intelligence to an intelligent style of dress. 
There you are, grandma, sweet. Any time 
you need an explanation call on me.” 

“You disrespectful child!” said the old 
lady, with so loving a glance that her reproof 
was void. “ Yet you’ve hit it exactly in — 
quite an intelligent way ! ” 

Again Amy laughed and felt herself drawn 
to this odd madam, who was wise enough to 
enjoy “ a little nonsense now and then.” 

“ Dear Madam Merton, I wish I could help 
you. I’d love to help fix Edna out, as you 
want to see her, but how can I ? ” 

“ On a purely business basis. Draw me 
some sketches. Study Edna’s face and figure. 
Design a couple of morning costumes, a few 
dinner frocks or gowns, and as many evening 
ones. I wouldn’t trust a Warden seamstress 


AN HONOR GIRL 


172 

to make a street suit, and, fortunately, I can 
order that from the city. But the others; if 
you’ll design them and instruct the seamstress 
how to put them together, or rather, what you 
mean in the pictures, I’ll gladly pay you for 
them, and any price you ask.” 

Unconsciously Amy’s shoulders stiffened. 
It was the first time she had ever realized the 
difference between her own and Edna’s sta- 
tion and the truth did not come home to her 
with any satisfaction. She had been listen- 
ing to the lady’s talk with keen interest, 
and was already, in imagination, sketching a 
costume which should suit her friend’s fine 
figure perfectly. 

There was an awkward silence for a brief 
time. The madam was so accustomed to 
paying highly for every service rendered her, 
and to receive no service not remunerated, that 
she had had no thought of offending Amy. 
Edna felt more hurt than her friend and won- 
dered at her grandmother’s “ indelicacy.” 
Amy was herself ashamed of her own feeling 
and was the first to recover her ordinary 
manner. 

“ Beg pardon, dear madam, but you took 


THE USE OF A TALENT 173 

me quite by surprise. I’ll be proud enough to 
make some designs for Ned, and if they are 
practical you will be welcome to them. But 
I couldn’t take payment for them; indeed, I 
could not.” 

The independent old lady was about to say, 
“ Then I can’t accept them,” but caught a 
shake of her grandchild’s head and merely 
replied : 

“ Very well. Let it rest that way, then, but 
I’ll be thankful for any hints. Now, you 
girls, go and chatter elsewhere. I must take 
my nap.” 

They acted upon this suggestion promptly, 
and spent a happy hour together; as Edna 
would have expressed it : “ unmarred by any 
talk of clothes.” But there was full and 
ample talk of Edna’s morning experiences, and 
of Nugent’s promise to see Amy soon. Then 
Edna begged her friend to make use of 
Johnny, “ for Johnny’s own good,” and 
planned the happiness they would enjoy when 
she returned in the fall. 

“ By that time your brother will have got- 
ten back his common sense and be at home 
again. I will ride one of the carriage horses 


AN HONOR GIRL 


174 

and he can use Peter’s bay, and with you on 
Johnny — my! what good times we’ll have! ” 

“ There’s always a good time where you 
are, Ned. You ought to be happy, you’re so 
generous.” 

“ Nonsense. I ought to be happy because 
I’ve nothing in the world to make me unhappy, 
except — well, I do wish dear grandma was 
well, and I had a few more folks belonging to 
me. Otherwise — heigh-ho ! What ! Must 
you go ? ” 

“ Yes, dear. It’s twelve. Father has taken 
to coming home to a midday dinner, and I like 
to be there. He says little to me, but I know 
he misses me if I am away. Come around as 
often as you can and I’ll make a drawing or 
two this very afternoon. Good-bye.” 

“ Dear Amy ! I wish grandma hadn’t said 
that,” thought Edna, watching her friend 
walk away. “ But it’s quite true about her 
stylishness; and I do believe, if she weren’t too 
proud to do it, that lots of people would be 
glad to have her design their clothes. And 
I’m afraid there’s not too much money in that 
household. Well-a-day! How uneven things 
are!” 


THE USE OF A TALENT 175 

When Madam Merton’s flattering remarks 
concerning her dressmaking were reported to 
Mrs. Barnard she was, naturally, much 
pleased, and entered into her daughter’s plans 
for the designs with keen interest. 

“ Why not as fitting to prepare beautiful 
clothes for our bodies as appropriate covers 
for our books ? It’s not so long since I heard 
you remark that you could design book covers, 
if you’d give your mind to it. I am very much 
obliged to Madam Merton for her suggestion; 
and I’d like to have the dressing of her own 
self for once. I’d take off all that ‘ flummery ’ 
she wears and put on simple, dignified gar- 
ments, appropriate to her age and position. 
Well, you can work for Edna, anyway. 
Bring your drawing things into the sewing 
room, dear. We will have a happy after- 
noon.” 

It proved such, indeed; yet after a time 
both mother and daughter fell into a si- 
lence that was broken, at last, by Amy’s 
asking : 

“ Mother, just how poor are we? ” 

“ I wish I could tell you. But I can’t. I 
only know that your father gives me very little 


AN HONOR GIRL 


176 

for the housekeeping lately, and spends less 
than he used upon himself. When I told him 
the other day that our magazine subscriptions 
had nearly run out and asked about renewing, 
he said : ‘ I think we can do without them this 
year/ Now, his current literature has been 
his chief recreation, and if he economizes in 
that, it is of necessity.” 

“ It’s horrid to be proud as well as poor. 
I wonder if it’s silly, too ? ” 

“ What’s set you thinking that ? ” 

“ Madam’s offer to pay for the sketches. 
The money would have given father his maga- 
zines. I should hate to be silly. I detest 
silliness.” 

Mrs. Barnard laughed. 

“ My dear, I think it has not come to that — 
yet. When it does, I have faith to believe.you 
will be wholly sensible. How soon will Edna 
go away ? ” 

“ They want to get off within the next fort- 
night.” 

“ Then, dear, after supper you had better 
take your sketches and submit them to the old 
lady. If you start early you will be safe to 
come home alone, though it’s so long a walk. 


THE USE OF A TALENT 177 

The evenings are light; but I wish Nugent 
were here.” 

“ He’d be as likely elsewhere as at home. 
But, mother, mayn’t I go and see him soon? ” 

“ Your father has said not.” 

“ I wish he would change his mind. I 
know, or I think I’m right, that father and he 
are acting from different notions. I mean the 
thing Nugent is blamed for isn’t that which 
he thinks it is. That’s not very clear, but if 
I could see him just a few minutes, I do be- 
lieve everything would be all right.” 

“ I wish I could say 4 yes.’ Once I would 
have urged the matter, but I can’t now. 
Charles has outside troubles enough without 
home worries. There’s nothing tragic in the 
situation, as your tone suggests. The case is 
simple. Nugent got angry and hired out to 
a hard master for the whole summer. The 
experience will do him good. Hm-m. Here’s 
Becky. Probably to say she’s unfit to work.” 

The servant tapped at the door and entered 
with her hand on her brow, already bound 
with a voluminous white cloth. 

“ Please, Mis’ Barnard, I’ve got the misery 
again.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


178 

“ Have you, Rebecca ? ” 

“ Yes’m, I have right smart. I’d like to go 
see the eye-dentist ’fore he leaves the dispen- 
satory and get somethin’ done.” 

“ Indeed, I, too, would like to have some- 
thing done, to change affairs. You’re ill with 
remarkable frequency since Amy left school. 
Oh, yes, you may go, of course. But do get 
something to really help you this time. Will 
you come back to wash the dishes ? ” 

“ Maybe. I mean, yes’m, I will.” 

“ Please set the table first. I want to finish 
this waist to-day, so that it may be ironed to- 
morrow.” 

“ That ’ll make me dreadful late, Mis’ Bar- 
nard.” 

The lady did not answer, but Amy did for 
her, with a short laugh. 

“ Hurry along, then, Becky, I’ll do that for 
you.” 

“ Will you, honey? That’s a good girl. 
Some folks can’t help being sick if some other 
folks is cross,” she finished with a mutter. 

Amy flashed a glance toward her mother, 
who was now smiling, and the retort died on 
her tongue. Then she gathered her sketches 


THE USE OF A TALENT 


179 

into a small portfolio and left the room. But 
she was perplexed and her mood had changed ; 
and as she went about her self-imposed task 
she wondered: 

“ How is it possible that the behavior of an 
ignorant serving woman can affect our happi- 
ness? But it does. My mother used to be 
the gentlest of women, yet the tone in which 
she answered Becky just now was decidedly 
sharp. Will I get to be like that? Dear 
mother, with her own frail health, sparing her- 
self never at all when she can add to our com- 
fort. She’d not have minded about the table, 
either, except that it was for me she was sew- 
ing and thought I needed the waist. I don’t 
wonder her nerves are unstrung, what with 
father’s gloominess, and Rebecca’s tantrums. 
She affects not to feel badly about Nugent, but 
I know she does miss him dreadfully. And 
was it for such humdrum work as this that I 
gave up college ? ” 

. For a few minutes the pretty dining room 
seemed a sort of prison and an intense longing 
to escape all the sordid duties of a restricted 
domestic life assailed her. Then the singing 
of a wren outside in the honeysuckle attracted 


180 an honor girl 

her and she threw the blind wide, the better 
to hear her little favorite. Instantly the sun 
flooded the apartment and seemed to sweep the 
darkness from her own mind. There came 
into her thoughts, as if the wren had sung it, 
“ Who sweeps a room as in God’s sight.” 
Was she doing as she would “ in God’s 
sight ” ? Might not this commonplace task of 
table-setting be part of that “ higher culture ” 
at which Professor Gray had hinted when he 
bade her good-bye that Monday at the station ? 

It certainly helped her to think so, and, once 
more fully happy, she gave the additional 
touches to her work which would never have 
entered Rebecca’s head, save on some holiday 
occasion. 

“Why not make holiday every day? I’ll 
do it. Mother loves to take her tea from 
dainty china, and she shall, always, after this. 
Of course, that means washing the cups my- 
self, for Becky’s too heavy-handed to be 
trusted. But what is the washing of a couple 
of cups and saucers compared to the satisfac- 
tion their use will give my parents ? ” 

Then she pulled a spray of the honeysuckle 
and folded a bit in each napkin. Afterward 


THE USE OF A TALENT 181 

glanced at the clock and saw that if she hurried 
she could bring from the cellar and ice-box 
the food already prepared and which her 
mother expected to set in place herself. When 
all was done it was an attractive little spread, 
and she was only just in time. 

“ Why, there’s father now ! ” 

Mrs. Barnard, also, had heard the footsteps 
on the path and laid aside her sewing, coming 
into the dining room with the troubled expres- 
sion one wears who finds herself behind 
time. One glance, though, and a smile which 
seemed disproportionately radiant, lighted her 
face. 

“ Amy, darling ! How good of you, and 
how pretty you have made it! I’m thankful, 
dear, for I hate to keep your father waiting. 
How good it is to have a daughter ! ” 

It seemed good to the merchant, also, when 
he had made himself ready for the evening 
meal, to find so sunshiny and dainty a place. 
He had come without appetite, to eat that he 
might live, but a real hunger fell on him as he 
observed the parsley-decked salad and the deli- 
cately sliced ham. The largest berries were in 
a dish by his plate, and as he unfolded his nap- 


AN HONOR GIRL 


182 

kin he gayly stuck his sprig of honeysuckle 
through his buttonhole and demanded : 

“ Whose birthday, Amy? ” 

“ Everybody’s, father. I’m a home girl, 
now, you know.” 

“Ah! Thank God!” 

Then his eye fell on the empty place opposite 
the girl’s own, and he smiled, though some- 
what sternly, at sight of Nugent’s napkin 
adorned like all the others. 

“Has he come to his senses? Yet he 
mustn’t break his word to Mr. Growden.” 

“ Oh, he hasn’t done that, and he’s not com- 
ing to this supper. But I mean to keep the 
place ready for him till he does come. How 
does your tea taste? I’m not used to making 
it yet, but I want criticism, so I shall know if it 
is right.” 

“ Excellent; only — a trifle cold.” 

“ It shall be hotter next time. Thank 
you.” 

It was the most cheerful meal they had en- 
joyed since Nugent’s departure, and, indeed, 
his waiting plate and napkin seemed to bring 
him nearer. It was as if he might rush in 
at any moment, in his old, tardy fashion, full 


THE USE OF A TALENT 183 

of excuses and awkwardly stooping to kiss his 
mother before he slouched sidewise into his 
chair. They sat longer than usual, Mr. Bar- 
nard retailing the news of the day in the town 
and his wife unwilling to hasten him, though 
she glanced uneasily at the clock from time to 
time. 

Amy understood her anxiety and nodded, as 
if to say: 

“ I shall not be afraid. Let the dear man 
talk who has been so silent, for it’s good to 
hear him.” 

But at last he pushed back and she was free; 
nor would her mother hear of longer delay, 
even though Rebecca had not yet returned 
from her interview with that unknown prac- 
titioner, the “ eye-dentist/’ 

“ Why, Amy ! Have you come so late ? 
And how happy you look ! ” cried Edna when 
her friend arrived at Merton House. 

“ Yes, dear. Mother thought you would 
better have these designs to-night so that 
Madam Merton could look them over and not 
have to waste to-morrow waiting for them. 
I’ll leave them with you and hope they’ll be 
of some use. No. I mustn’t come in.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


184 

“ But you must. Hark ! That’s grandma 
calling now. She’s in the library and will 
want to have you talk these over with her. 
Do, please. She doesn’t like to be denied 
things, she’s so old and frail.” 

“ Very well, but help me to get away soon, 
Edna. Mother would be worried if I were 
very late.” 

“ What a pity that Peter’s gone; and it’s the 
servants’, the women-servants’, night out. I’ve 
nobody to send with you, but we will not be 
long. If we can help it ! ” 

Yet who could hurry the old society woman 
when once upon the subject of dress? Amy 
was made to go over every drawing and ex- 
plain her ideas of materials suitable; and 
though it was delightful to find her work so 
readily appreciated and accepted, she felt “ on 
pins and needles ” to be on her homeward way. 
Finally Edna begged: 

“ Grandma, sweet, don’t keep this poor 
thing any longer. She’s alone and we’ve 
nobody to send with her. Can’t you come 
again by daylight, Amy, and talk these over ? ” 

“ Alone, child ? And didn’t tell me ? Be 
off, be off at once. You go part way with 



A heavy hand clutched her shoulder fiercely. — Page 185 . 




THE USE OF A TALENT T;; 

her, Edna, but hurry back. I’m alone too, 
you know.” 

Amy would not permit this. The invalid 
must not be left. She was not afraid. In- 
deed she was not ; and very speedily was on the 
road toward the town, too happy in knowing 
that she had spent a useful day and given 
others pleasure to think of any danger worse 
than her mother’s tender anxiety. 

But just when she had reached the loneliest 
stretch of the highway, between Merton House 
and the town, the sound of hurrying footsteps 
behind her at first startled, then made her move 
hastily aside out of the way. 

“ Oh, oh ! it sounds like a tramp, and he’s 
coming straight for me ! ” 

With this sudden terror waking in her heart 
a heavy hand clutched her shoulder fiercely. 


CHAPTER XIII 


ANXIETIES 


“ Amy!” 

It seemed an age before she could answer. 

“ Nugent!” 

“ Why, girlie ! Did I frighten you ? ” 

“ Terribly. I — I feel ill yet. I thought you 
were a tramp. You know there’s nobody I 
dread like them.” 

“ Sit down a minute on this stone wall. 
You’re trembling.” 

“ No. I’m all right, or shall be in a minute. 
Mother will worry, as it is. I must make 
haste. Where did you come from? Will you 
walk on with me? Though I don’t know as I 
ought to ask you. Oh, Nugent, my father 
wouldn’t let me answer your note.” 

“ I know.” 

“ How?” 

“ Edna told me. She was at the farm this 
morning.” 


1 86 


ANXIETIES 


18; 

“ How queer that I should forget that, but 
you scared it out of my head. She told me, 
too, all about your talk together. She’s a 
splendid girl.” 

“ She didn’t call me a splendid boy,” 
laughed Nugent, remembering their friend’s 
unflattering frankness. Then he added 
gravely : “ I want you to tell father and 
mother all about that night. I’ve said to my- 
self that I’d never go home till I was invited 
there by him, and the invitation seems slow in 
coming. I feel like a sneak, keeping it back 
from them, and I want them to know; even 
though that may stop my coming home al- 
together.” 

“ Can’t you trust the love of your own par- 
ents? But you’ve never told even me the 
whole story. You must, if I’m to repeat it 
straight. Do it now, quickly. I don’t want 
mother to worry about anything. She’s not 
well; at least, she’s nervous, and, if you’ll be- 
lieve it, really sharp-tongued sometimes. I 
begin to realize all the petty details of life she 
has borne to give us a chance. They’re 
enough to fret the courage out of anybody. I 
don’t think a man could stand them, and 


1 88 AN HONOR GIRL 

they're not helpful even to the sweetest of 
women." 

“Yet Edna says you have chosen to stay 
at home and bear them. How could you? " 

“ Because I love you better than I love 
learning. Now, don’t let’s waste time on that. 
Tell me about yourself." 

She slipped her hand into his, and it may 
be that the lad would have been too shame- 
faced to retain it had the light not been dim 
beneath the overhanging trees, and the avenue 
deserted. As it was, he held it with a friendly 
pressure, and told in few words the same tale 
he had repeated to Edna earlier in the day. 

“ So that’s the whole business. Don’t try 
to hide anything or persuade forgiveness. If 
that isn’t mine of itself it ’ll be worth nothing." 

“And if it is, Nugent? What then? Will 
you come back into the store and help 
father? " 

“ I can’t. I’ve put it out of my power, like 
you the college course." 

“ It seems too bad. Father wouldn’t have 
given you that training at the commercial 
school if he hadn’t expected you to do his 
bookkeeping and typewriting for him. If 


ANXIETIES 


189 

you did that you’d know exactly how every- 
thing was going on. Now it’s all in the hands 
of William Hardesty, and those others who 
think father old-fogyish.” 

“ Hardesty is a better bookkeeper than I 
am. 

“ Is he a better friend to father ? ” 

“ Amy, I fancy he could hardly be a worse. 
If it were to do all over again, and I knew as 
much as I know now, I wouldn’t have refused. 
I thought father was only fussy, but I guess 
it was a more serious matter than just keeping 
‘ Barnard’s ’ in the old way. I’m afraid it 
was a question of keeping it at all ; and, girlie, 
don’t imagine I sleep better of nights for 
thinking I failed in my duty.” 

“ Oh, you darling boy ! You make me so 
happy to hear you say that. I’m going to put 
that part with the rest of the story when I tell 
it to the folks; and here we are at the corner 
of our own street. How much further can 
you go ? ” 

“ To the latch of our own gate.” 

“ Then to the door! To my mother, Nu- 
gent!” 

“ Don’t ask it, Amy. When they want me 


AN HONOR GIRL 


190 

I’ll come.. Indeed, I ought not to be here, 
anyway. I have to get up so early, and I 
am so tired. I’ve four miles back to tramp, 
and a last look at the stock in the stables be- 
fore I can turn in. Whew! Wouldn’t I like 
to just run upstairs to my own den for this one 
night? But, good-bye. Tell them the story in 
its worst. Don’t excuse it. I don’t myself, 
and — none of you need fear that I shall ever 
degrade myself in just that way again. Good- 
bye.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Barnard were on the porch 
when Amy ran up the path to them. They 
were growing anxious over her delay, and 
her father was about to start to meet her when 
they heard her voice outside the entrance. 

“ Who was with you, daughter ? ” 

“ Nugent, father.” 

“ Humph!” 

“ And, oh, he did long to come in ! ” 

“Trash! What was to prevent?” 

“ I’ve so much to tell. May I begin ? ” 

“ Of course. Sit here on the settee by me. 
On the side of my good ear. I’m growing 
more deaf every day.” 

Amy snuggled to him and patted his hand 


ANXIETIES 


IQI 

caressingly. Then told her brother’s story, 
using but few words, and palliating nothing, 
as she had promised Nugent. A long silence 
succeeded her explanation; then Mrs. Bar- 
nard said gently, and her voice was tremulous : 

“You would better go to your room now, 
dear. You have had a busy day.” 

“ Good-night, father. Good-night, mother.” 

Mr. Barnard put his arm about her and 
kissed her tenderly. This child, at least, had 
given him no pain. The sin of intemperance 
was the hardest for the proud, upright gentle- 
man to forgive. From the beginning, the 
lives of all the Barnards had been models of 
correctness, and it was a bitter grief that now, 
when the fortunes of the house were at their 
lowest ebb, this degradation should come upon 
him. He had erred on the side of sternness, 
it might be, but was not Nugent, also, a Bar- 
nard? Ought not his own nature to have 
shrunk from this disgrace? 

Amy had kept her promise to her brother, 
and had hidden nothing; but now she was 
free to plead for him. 

“ Please, father, forgive him. He is so 
sorry and so homesick. I know it. Please say 


AN HONOR GIRL 


192 

that I may go to see him to-morrow, or, at 
least, to write to him. On Sunday, I suppose, 
the farmer does not make his men work. May 
he come home on Sunday ? ” 

It rose to Mr. Barnard’s lips to say: “ No. 
He has not been sufficiently punished.” But 
he could not resist the clinging arms of his 
daughter, nor her kisses on his cheek. So he 
answered instead : “ Yes, Amy. If you wish. 
Now, go. I’m so tired.” 

Mrs. Barnard leaned forward, startled. 
There had come to her husband’s face that ex- 
pression of suffering which seemed half phys- 
ical, half mental, and that brought with it a 
confusion of thought and memory new to this 
accurate, clear-headed man. 

“ Yes, go, Amy. Let father rest.” 

The daughter obeyed, nor, in her delight, 
had she noticed that which so disturbed her 
mother. She lighted her room, and wrote a 
hasty note to Nugent, which she meant to rise 
early and post; then went to bed and to sleep. 

She awakened suddenly to find her mother 
standing beside her, with the gas again burn- 
ing, and to hear the trembling words : 

“ Dear, wake up. You must dress and go 


ANXIETIES 


193 

for the doctor. Your father is ill. He talks 
strangely about Nugent, the prodigal son, 
husks, and that nice salad. He has mixed 
them all in his dreams — if it is dreaming — and 
implores me to give our boy his supper. Oh, 
if he were only here ! ” 

“ Don’t fear, mother. I’ll be ready at once. 
Probably father is just over-tired, or, maybe, 
the salad was not so fine as we thought. 
It may be indigestion. You know he suffers 
that sometimes.” 

“ We’ll hope so, child. We’ll hope so. 
Shall you be afraid ? Oh ! how I hate to send 
you, in the middle of the night, alone. But 
there’s no one else. Unless you’ll stay with 
him, and I’ll go.” 

But of two evils the mother knew that the 
lesser was to take the short walk through the 
silent streets. 

“ No, mother, I’ll go. I’m not at all afraid. 
The idea! Afraid to do anything for my 
precious father! Go back to him, mother, I’ll 
be off in a jiffy.” 

As she passed by her bureau on her way 
from the room, Amy caught sight of the note 
she had written her brother, and an impulse 


AN HONOR GIRL 


194 

made her snatch it up and take it with 
her. 

“ I have to pass the post office on the road 
and I’ll drop it into the outside box. I hope 
it ’ll reach my boy before the news of father’s 
illness does, if this means anything serious.” 
Afterward she was very glad that she had 
done so, for that night proved the last, for 
many weeks, on which her father could have 
spoken forgiveness to any one. 

“ Typhoid fever.” 

That was the doctor’s almost instant ver- 
dict. 

“ The disease has been in his system for a 
long time, and a man less determined to keep 
at his post would have succumbed before this. 
I almost wish he had ; his chances would have 
been better.” 

From the first it was a fight against great 
odds; and to Amy it seemed as if she had al- 
ready lost both father and mother. Within 
twenty-four hours there were two trained 
nurses in the house, and the anxious wife hov- 
ered about the sick-room and hung upon their 
words as if she had forgotten everything else. 

Nugent came, for a few moments only, on 


ANXIETIES 


195 

the second day, and was permitted to stand 
at his father’s bedside just long enough to 
take the fevered hand in his and press it ten- 
derly. Then he was banished, and left the 
room to receive his mother’s half-conscious 
kiss, and to hear her anxious question: 

“ How does he look to you ? Oh ! son, do 
you think he will get well ? ” 

“ She hadn’t a thought for me or my af- 
fairs,” he reflected bitterly, remembering the 
very different welcome his fancy had pictured 
in his own mind. “ There was no ‘ fatted 
calf ’ in my business, so far as she was con- 
cerned. She has but one idea now, and that 
is — father.” 

But Amy met him in the hall below, and 
was so loving and so glad to talk that he was 
comforted. Together they discussed the situ- 
ation, and the girl hopefully declared : 

“ That ‘ business ’ can’t be as bad as we 
fancied, Nugent. Mother stops at nothing, 
and I’ve been reckoning up. The doctor 
comes two or three times a day, and the nurses 
will cost us fifty dollars a week. Fifty dollars 
a week! That’s a lot of money, and there 
must be plenty where it comes from, for 


1 96 AN HONOR GIRL 

mother is all the time suggesting things even 
they don’t ask for.” 

“ Yes, I guess the money part’s all right. 
If it wasn’t human life is worth more than 
money. We must save father, Amy. We 
must.” 

“ Oh ! Nugent, I can’t think there’s real 
danger.” 

“ If he gets well I’ll try to be a more dutiful 
son to him.” 

“ Of course he will get well. God wouldn’t 
take him from us who love and need him so.” 

“ I have to go now. If he gets worse you’ll 
send for me ? ” 

“ Surely. Instantly.” 

“ Old Growden’s acting rough about my 
coming at all. He’s the most afraid to die of 
anybody I know. Talked about infection and 
all that stuff. When he isn’t watching the 
men he’s reading medical books, and fancies 
he has everything they treat of. He’ll be on 
the verge of typhoid when I get back, see if 
he isn’t. Good-bye. Don’t worry. Father is 
sure to get well. He must. I’ve got to have 
a chance to prove I’m a good son, even if I do 
hate the store. Good-bye.” 


ANXIETIES 


19; 

The days dragged into weeks, and the weeks 
into a month, and still the fever was not 
broken. There were now two doctors, as well 
as nurses, in regular attendance upon Mr. 
Barnard, who knew little of what went on 
about him, with the occasional visit of a re- 
tired physician for consultation. 

It was this last old practitioner who gave 
the anxious household the most hope: 

“ Tve known Charles Barnard, boy and 
man, from his birth on, till I gave up prac- 
tice a year ago. He has the family constitu- 
tion, tough as steel. I have faith in God that 
our efforts will be blessed, and that he will 
win through. Ill as he is, there are no fatal 
symptoms — yet. We will not invite them in 
our own minds by forebodings.” 

Nevertheless, there came a day at the 
month's end when even the sanguine old doc- 
tor lost something of his cheerfulness, and set- 
tled himself for a lengthened watch in the sick 
chamber, through whose open windows blew 
so fresh and sweet a breeze it seemed that 
health must surely come upon it. 

Mrs. Barnard also watched, sitting wide- 
eyed and silent at the foot of her husband’s 


AN HONOR GIRL 


198 

bed, as rigid in her anxiety as if the power 
of motion had wholly left her, and with 
her gaze riveted upon the worn face on the 
pillow. 

The day nurse moved softly about, antici- 
pating every unspoken suggestion of the doc- 
tor’s eyes, and wearing still that professional 
smile of cheerfulness, which, in these later 
days, Amy had come to distrust, almost to 
hate. 

In the hall without, brother and sister clung 
together, sometimes moving restlessly, yet 
noiselessly, from door to window-seat; saying 
nothing, listening intently, and Amy, at least, 
praying with an agony of supplication that 
would not despair. 

Maybe, too, in the sight of the All-wise, 
Nugent’s sorrow for a negligent past was, 
also, prayer. For the lad was profoundly 
moved, feeling that if only his father might be 
spared there was no sacrifice of personal pref- 
erences he would not make to prove his grati- 
tude. 

After a time, Amy’s eyes fixed themselves 
upon a kitten gamboling on the trellis below, 
and she whispered the impotent wonder which 


ANXIETIES 


199 

has stirred so many mourning hearts in the 
supreme hour of their grief: 

“ What is it, this ‘ life/ this unknown ‘ prin- 
ciple/ of which that useless creature is so full ? 
If we could only take it from her and give it 
to our father ! ” 

Nugent’s gaze followed her own, but he 
answered nothing. His ears had just caught 
the sound of a hurried movement within the 
chamber beyond, and he lifted his hand warn- 
ingly, while his face turned white beneath its 
tan. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 

It was a May morning, almost a year after 
that Commencement which had witnessed 
Amy’s triumph, and which now seemed to her 
like a beautiful dream of the past. The sun- 
shine fell through the open window upon the 
kitchen floor, and upon the girl herself, stand- 
ing before the big deal table, vigorously 
pounding a mass of dough, that puffed and 
rolled itself about the kneading-board, as if 
protesting against the treatment it received. 
Presently, across this sunshine fell a shadow, 
and with the songs of the birds outside min- 
gled the tones of a voice that had long been 
unheard in that place. 

“ Laws, Miss Amy ! Why you so whackin’ 
that there bread? Don’t you know dough has 
feelin’s, same as folks ? ” 

“ Rebecca ! You — you — here ? ” 

“ Sure enough, honey. There ! you leave 


200 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 201 

go ! I can’t stand see no such beatings as that. 
Raised bread should ought to be handled fin- 
ickin-hard and steady; this-a-way.” 

Without waiting for interference from the 
astonished young housekeeper, the old cook 
rolled up her sleeves, pushed the girl aside, 
thrust her own hands into the flour, and began 
to work the dough with a deft firmness that 
soon reduced it to submission. Then she lifted 
the pans, waiting beside the board, critically 
scanned their surfaces, and remarked : 

“ Them ain’t so bad, honey, but no use 
wasting good butter greasin’ ’em. When I 
was home my pans needn’t no greasin’, for my 
bread was just right.” 

By this time Amy had recovered from her 
astonishment, and laid her floury hand on the 
other’s arm. 

“ That will do, Rebecca. I can attend to 
my own affairs, please.” 

“ Go ’long, honey. I’ve come back.” 

“ Without invitation. You may take your- 
self off again at once.” 

Rebecca paid no more attention to this than 
to the song of the robin on the lilac bush. 

Amy could not contend, physically, with the 


202 


AN HONOR GIRL 


woman, but her face flushed indignantly, and 
she repeated with all the sternness possible : 

“ Rebecca, I wish to finish this work my- 
self.” 

For answer the intruder raised a bit of the 
dough toward her nose, smelled it, and ex- 
claimed reproachfully: 

“ Honey, you left that bread sour ! ” 

“ Well, if I did, is that anything to you 
now ? ” 

“ It’s allays something to me see good vic- 
tuals spoiled. How’s all ? ” 

“ Well enough. Will you go, or shall I call 
mother ? ” 

“ Why, no need, little missy, for disturbin’ 
her. Me an’ you can ’range our circumstances 
suitable. Ain’t you school-learned? ” 

Despite her anger Amy had to smile. The 
perfect composure on Rebecca’s face showed 
that she felt no compunction for what she had 
done, or, indeed, that her behavior had been 
anything save commendable. 

“ I am certainly wise enough to know that 
so ungrateful a person as you has no place in 
this house.” 

Old Becky regarded Amy with amazement. 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 203 

“To goodness knows, honey, what ails 
you ? ” 

“Aren't you ashamed of yourself? To 
leave us on that dreadful day when my father's 
life was despaired of, and without so much as 
a word? If anybody had told me beforehand 
that you could treat my mother so I wouldn’t 
have believed it. But having proved so un- 
faithful you are of no further use here.” 

Rebecca knitted her brows, caught up a 
fork, and pricked her shapely loaves, then car- 
ried them to the shelf above the range, remark- 
ing: 

“ Them done be light by dinner-time. 
What's for dinner, honey ? ” 

“ That is nothing to you, as I see.” 

“ Why, Miss Amy, you’re dreadful tired. 
'Less you’d never be so sharp like with old 
Becky.” 

She was now moving about the kitchen, 
opening drawers, inspecting the general condi- 
tion of things, and shaking her head vigor- 
ously at times. Her greatest dissatisfaction 
was, evidently, with the floor, for she immedi- 
ately procured a pail and scrubbing brush, and 
went down upon her knees to clean it. 


204 


AN HONOR GIRL 


At a loss what to say next, and, it must be 
confessed, with some relief that a hateful task 
was being taken from her own hands, Amy 
sat down by the window, and watched the ser- 
vant’s strong and skillful movements. After 
a moment she said, more to herself than to the 
other : 

“ There’s a right and a wrong way about 
every single thing, isn’t there ? ” 

“ Honey, there certainly is.” 

“ And you took the wrong one when you 
deserted us, Rebecca. Supposing my father 
had died that day? Wouldn’t you have felt it 
dreadfully, remembering how you had treated 
us?” 

Rebecca gathered her skirts around her 
plump person, and sat down on an oasis of dry 
boards in the midst of a desert of soapy water. 
From this lowly position she regarded Amy 
with troubled eyes. 

“ Honey, me and you ’pears to be talkin’ 
contrary. How come I be ashamed, as you 
say? Wasn’t the death-angel flying right 
around and around this house? Wasn’t he 
just as like catch Becky as your father? 
Ain’t the first one his scrawny fingers lights 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 205 

on the one has to go? Wasn’t Becky right 
down on the ground-door , where that angel 
done come inf Huh! Suppose I going to 
wait an’ let him catch me? I didn’t dast. I 
did hate to leave you-all, that-a-way, but no- 
body that’s got sense stay in a house where 
death’s a-flyin’. No, indeedy. So, course, I 
had to go.” 

“ Rebecca ! Is it possible that you can be 
so ignorant as that? ” 

Becky knew enough to appreciate the indig- 
nity of that word, and resumed her task with 
a gesture of resentment. But Amy went on: 

“ When you found father didn’t die, but be- 
gan slowly to get well, why didn’t you come 
back?” 

“ I forget. I guess ’twas ’cause I got mar- 
ried.” 

“To whom, pray? If you should by any 
chance remember his name ! ” 

“ His name Peter. Him that is old lady 
Merton’s coachman.” 

“ Is that possible ! Would he marry you ? ” 

“ Why not ? Can’t I cook tasty ? ” 

“ Humph ! Do folks marry to please their 
appetites ? ” 


206 an honor girl 

“ A heap of ’em do. Good victuals ain’t no 
hindrance to getting along smooth, as I ever 
heard. Look at your own folks now. Ain’t 
your pa better natured when he has his roast 
done to suit him ? ” 

Amy smiled, then grew sober. 

“ Alas, Becky ! I’m afraid it’s not often 
that way now. I try and try, but everything 
comes easier to me than the cooking.” 

“ That’s why I come back. After my hus- 
band he left for New York where his missis 
is I worked a spell for them Herburns. They 
ain’t your kind, they ain’t. All on their backs 
and nothing in their cupboard. Me and them 
didn’t hitch; and one day, that was yesterday, 
when Miss Sophy come in the kitchen and got 
saucy I done left.” 

Amy laughed at the picture which rose be- 
fore her. Well she knew that the spoiled Re- 
becca would resent any interference by 
“ strangers,” and could fancy the face of the 
fashionable young lady when “ taught her 
place ” by the old colored woman. 

“ Yes, honey, she come boastin’ her sister 
beaten you at that college where she went at. 
Said if you’d have went you’d had to come 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 207 

packin’ home again straight. Said was all a 
mistake, anyhow, your gettin’ that chance. 
And didn’t I know what your ma tole me? I 
reckon I set her down where she’ll stay with- 
out sassin’ me, one spell.” 

Amy’s cheek had flushed. She had heard 
from other sources that Jeannette’s family had 
made the same statement; that but for fa- 
voritism Amy would never have had the schol- 
arship. The falsehood had been hard to en- 
dure in silence, yet that was the only way in 
which she could meet it; leaving it to her 
friends, if they chose, to set the matter right. 
Then the flush subsided, and she replied: 

“ Untruths hurt those who utter them worse 
than anybody else. I expect, Becky, I was 
what you call 4 too much sot up.’ I’ve been 
going to school to a lot of new teachers since 
I graduated last summer. It needed Professor 
.Slander to teach me humility.” 

“ You going to school, honey? Why, I 
thought you done got through all that fool- 
ishness.” 

“ No, indeed. I’ve been matriculated in the 
College of Life, and I find it difficult to com- 
prehend all my lessons.” 


208 an honor girl 

Old Rebecca looked in alarm at the sweet 
face by the window. It was an old trick of her 
favorite's to puzzle her with the longest words 
that occurred, but there had never before been 
such a tone of seriousness beneath the outward 
fun. 

“ Laws, Miss Amy, quit foolin'. How 
could you be going to school yet be doing all 
your folkses’ housework, I'd like to know." 

“ Bless your heart, I haven’t done it all. 
We put the washing out." 

“ Why for ? Why didn’t you get a good 
woman to work in my place? " 

“ We couldn't afford it. I reckon we’re 
pretty poor, nowadays, my Rebecca. You 
shouldn't have come back. Even the rats for- 
sake a sinking ship, you know." 

“ Well, I ain't no rat, honey. I've come 
back. You best go tell Mis' Barnard so." 

“ She won’t be able to pay you." 

“ You go 'long and tell her. When I get 
this floor done and that bread in the oven, I’ll 
conversation a spell with your ma." 

“ It's kind of you to clean my floor for me." 

“ Huh ! Supposin' I could step 'round on a 
mess of grease spots ? " 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 209 

“ But they’re my grease spots, not yours, 
and I manage by stepping around them not on 
them.” 

“ Oh ! Miss Amy. But I know better.” 

“ No, indeed, Becky, it is true. I get so 
tired sometimes, I can’t clean the floor. But 
I’m learning. After a time it will scarcely 
need scrubbing, for I shall do my cooking so 
daintily that no crumbs will fall. 4 Practice 
makes perfect.’ ” 

“ No, indeedy. Some folks is born cooks, 
and some ” 

“ Have cooking ‘ thrust upon them,’ eh ? ” 

Rebecca did not answer; she was washing 
the bread-raiser at the cold-water spigot, and 
regarding the latter’s tarnished state with 
stern disapproval. She reflected that it would 
take her many days to get the kitchen into the 
condition she liked, and was considering which 
was the most necessary task to begin with. 
There* wasn’t room in Rebecca’s mind 
for many ideas at a time, and the spigot 
drove the thought of wages away, till Amy 
recalled it. 

“ Rebecca, you must believe me. My 
mother cannot afford to pay you what she 


210 AN honor girl 

used, or what you can earn elsewhere. We 
shall have to go on in the best way we can.” 

Becky came over to the window, and looked 
down on the weary girl, who, despite the fact 
that she had grown much thinner, and that her 
feet were aching sharply, still wore a cheerful 
smile and held her head erect. 

“ Honey, I saw you going by one day, and 
I ’lowed to Miss Sophy there wasn’t one in 
Warden town could hold a candle to you.” 

“ Why should anybody hold candles by day- 
light? And I never go out alone after dark.” 

“ You needn’t fool me, Miss Amy. How 
much you pay your wash-woman?” 

Amy named the price, one much smaller 
than Rebecca’s old wage. 

“ That’s all right. I take it, and stay. You 
needn’t bother, Mis’ Barnard ’bout no such 
trifle.” 

“ It is not a trifle, Rebecca. I can’t let you 
cheat yourself.” 

“ Huh ! I never cheated nobody in all my 
born days, Amy Barnard, and you believe I 
ain’t going to begin on Becky. I’ll stay. I’ve 
been studying it out this long spell. Peter, he 
gets his victuals to old Madam’s, don’t he? I 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 21 1 

done bought and paid for my own little house, 
ain’t I ? I get my victuals here, don’t I ? ” 

“ You’ll get something to eat, Rebecca, but 
please don’t say ‘ victuals.’ That always takes 
away my appetite.” 

“ Laws, honey, you’re dreadful finickin’. 
Never mind. What your ma pays for the 
wash will keep me in clothes; and if Peter, 
that’s my man, can’t pay for the firin’, what’s 
the sense of having a man ? Eh ? ” 

“ Very little, I should say,” laughed Amy, 
already feeling like another girl, or like the 
care-free girl she used to be. 

“ Then, that’s all settled. Don’t tell Mis’ 
Barnard I’m back. Yo’ go right off outdoors, 
somewheres; and when dinner-time’s here I’ll 
fetch in the vict — potatoes, and such. I ’low 
I’ll like to see my old missis’ eyes when they 
light on Becky fetching in the vict — stuff.” 

“ Madam Peter-Rebecca What’s-your-name. 
What is your name now, anyway, Becky ? ” 

“ Mis’ Peter Wabbles, honey.” 

“ Wabbles? It can’t be. Nobody ever had 
such an absurd name as that.” 

“ That’s what it sounds like, sure.” 

“ How do you spell it? ” 


212 AN HOMO'S' GIRL 

“ Spell it ? How come I need spell any- 
thing? If I know my name, and answer to it, 
and Peter knows it and answers to it, and both 
of us pays our owin’s, ain’t that enough? 
School learnin’ won’t make nor mar old 
Becky, but a spoiled batch of bread make her 
ashamed all the days of her life.” 

“ Is there anything you cannot cook well, 
Rebecca? I don’t believe so; nor any part 
of housekeeping you don’t thoroughly under- 
stand. I wish I was as wise as you, and I 
mean to be. I hereby appoint you to a posi- 
tion in my College of Life, Professor Supersti- 
tion, to the chair of Economics. Will you 
accept me in your class-room?” 

“ You surely done get queer-headed since I 
left you to look out for myself, Miss Amy.” 

“ But will you ? I want to know every- 
thing. I want to make my life a many-sided 
one. I want to do each thing I undertake in 
the very best way it can be done. And it 
makes me half-ashamed that you, who can’t 
even spell, are wiser in household matters than 
I am. Well, Professor, I’ll act upon your sug- 
gestion. Mother is in the library with father, 
where she is mostly nowadays, and won’t 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 213 

miss me till dinner-time. We always have it 
at midday, since the failure, or since father 
was ill. I’ll go for a long walk, give myself a 
holiday, and be fresh for my studies under 
you, Professor, to-morrow morning. Good- 
bye.” 

Rebecca watched her depart, feeling puzzled 
and anxious. She was glad to be back in the 
old familiar home, but even she could realize 
that all was not as it used to be. She had 
heard of the failure at “ Barnard’s,” but knew 
that the store was still kept open and saw no 
changes there, except in the absence of the old 
proprietor. He had never regained his 
strength sufficiently to resume business, so 
rumor said, but that real poverty had come 
upon the household was something she had not 
dreamed. Yet she began to understand this 
now as she poked about in the pantries and 
cellar, and saw the scarcity where had for- 
merly been plenty. 

“ I reckon it high time I come, ’less my folks 
starve to death. What that child know ’bout 
good providin’ ? Huh ! ” 

Meanwhile the “ child ” had taken the path 
to the river, growing more light-hearted with 


AN HONOR GIRL 


214 

each step of the way, and picturing to herself 
old John's face when she should tell him of 
Rebecca's unexpected return. He had been 
most indignant at the trusted servant's deser- 
tion of the family in its sorest need, and would, 
Amy felt, be opposed to her reception now as 
a member of it. 

The fisherman was not at his cottage, but 
her own little Amy lay rocking in the sun- 
light beside the wharf, and she could not re- 
sist the temptation to again try her skill at the 
oars. 

“ How few times I have used it since Uncle 
John gave it me? But things seem a little 
brighter now. That is, I will have more time 
if Rebecca stays. Oh! what relief it is not to 
worry about dinner for even this one day," 
she thought. Then, as she neared the Island, 
she caught the sound of some one hammering, 
and knew that she had taken the direct way 
to her old friend. 

She moored her boat, and ran lightly up 
the slope, and there, indeed, was the fisher- 
man-carpenter working so busily that he did 
not notice her arrival, till, unwilling to remain 
longer silent, she cried out: 


A PROFESSOR OF ECONOMICS 215 

“Heigh-ho, Uncle! I’ve come to make a 
visit !” 

Whereupon he wheeled around, and, in a 
tone of disappointment, answered : 

“ Oh, Amy! 


CHAPTER XV 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 

“ Oh ! Don’t you want me, Uncle John? ” 

“ I didn’t, missy. Now you’re here, I’m 
powerful glad to see you. I was an old simple- 
ton, anyway, to think I could get along with- 
out you. Yet ” 

Amy’s expression had changed from pain to 
amusement, and back again, while the old man 
stood looking at her in that perplexed manner. 

“ Yet what, Mr. Gay? ” 

“ * Mr. Gay,’ indeed! Well, I deserve that 
for being so inhospitable. You’re welcome, 
my dear. Really welcome. I was merely pre- 
paring a surprise for you; but, after all, sur- 
prises are apt to be mistakes. Sit down, and 
rest a minute. Then I’ll ask you to step over 
the house with me.” 

Amy glanced at the piles of new lumber and 
the bundles of shingles lying on the grass, and 
exclaimed : 


216 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 217 

“ Why, I thought you fixed the roof here 
last summer. Is it worn again so soon? ” 

“ That was only patchwork. This is to be a 
new garment. I’m going to put in a few cup- 
boards and such-like conveniences, too. In 
the old days they built their rooms four- 
square, without many tucking-away cubby- 
holes.” 

“ What did folks do with their clothes ? ” 

“ Hung what few they had on the pegs that 
are still in the walls. Well, why don’t you ask 
me who I’m fixing up for? ” 

“ Because if you wish me to know, you will 
tell me without.” 

“ Humph ! I do wish you to know now, so 
here it is : This is hoping to be a home for one 
Miss Amy Barnard, of Warden.” 

“ What can you mean ? ” 

“ Exactly what I say.” 

“ But why should I need any other home 
than that I have ? ” 

“ Because that will be taken from you be- 
fore many days, I fear.” 

“ Uncle — John ! ” cried the girl in conster- 
nation, and springing up as if she must return 
immediately whence she had come. 


218 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Ah ! lassie ; I wish I needn’t have been the 
one to tell you ; yet who could do so with fuller 
sympathy? After all, too, what is it but a 
house? If in this old one you can be as com- 
fortable as in that other, what does it matter? 
We’re pilgrims, at the best.” 

“ I’ve no desire to be a pilgrim. Tell me all 
you know and mean.” 

“ Look back over the past months. Since 
the day he was stricken your father has never 
been able to provide any support for his fam- 
ily. Even though his physical strength has, 
apparently, returned, and he looks as well as 
ever, he has lost the power to exert himself. 
He seems to have accepted the situation with- 
out hope of anything better; and, though I 
have suggested it several times, your mother 
will not discuss business with him.” 

“ Uncle John, I’ve longed to know just how 
we were fixed, but I hate to worry poor 
mother, and she says nothing. Do you know? 
Will you tell, if it is right in duty to my par- 
ents? ” 

“ You will have to know very soon. I’m 
sure my old friends would rather you heard it 
from me than from idlers. When your father 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 


219 

was taken ill last year, ‘ Barnard’s ’ was on 
the point of failure. I think that a different 
partner from him who was with your father 
might have averted the trouble. I don’t know 
this, of course, and I don’t like to judge un- 
justly. Anyway, the failure occurred while 
Mr. Barnard was too ill to know anything 
about it. Your mother was too anxious about 
him to care for lesser matters, and left all to 
the lawyers. They worked for the other side, 
the other man, I mean. The partners’ inter- 
ests ought to have been equal, but they were 
not made so.” 

“ But how, then, could we spend so much 
money for doctors and nurses, if we hadn’t it 
to spend? Are we in debt all that? ” 

Amy had been reared in a wholesome dis- 
trust of debt, and was infinitely relieved by 
the prompt answer: 

“ Not one cent. Thank God for that. Not 
one cent. Your mother had a few hundred 
dollars in the bank, I believe; a little legacy 
from a relative, and she used that — till it is 
about gone. To save the business the house 
had been mortgaged to its full value, and the 
mortgagee lives at a distance. He wishes to 


220 AN honor girl 

reclaim his money, and the house is advertised 
for sale. It has always been an attractive 
piece of property, and is sure to go. Then — 
well, little Amy, I see nothing better for the 
present than that you should all come over 
here and stay; for the summer, at least.” 

Amy rose and walked a bit away, wishing 
not to show the grief she felt at what she had 
heard. To lose her home, the home of the 
Barnards for generations past; the unpreten- 
tious, time-enriched old place, with its memo- 
ries and traditions ; this, indeed, was to realize 
what was meant by that little word, “ poor.” 

Then the hammering began again, and her 
heart reproved her. 

“ I must go back to him — dear old John- 
fisherman! Whistling and toiling for others 
at an age when most men would sit in the 
chimney-corner and grumble. Stripped of all 
his own kin, losing all whom he loved, yet 
making of us his kindred in word and deed. 
Well, he shall see I can show a spark of his 
bright spirit, even if only a spark. I can’t 
whistle, but I can sing — over the lump in my 
throat ! and if I sing I can’t cry ; and here’s for 
his accompaniment!” 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 


221 


So then she picked up the tune he had 
started, and, though her voice was rather 
tremulous, kept to it bravely, till the lump, 
which choked her, melted, and the tears, which 
had threatened, retreated from her eyes. 
Hearing her, the carpenter redoubled his ef- 
forts ; and nobody else would ever have 
guessed that this merry duet was meant to hide 
two heavy hearts. 

“ Good enough, missy. Good enough ! 
That’s facing the music in fact and the right 
spirit. Come, let’s talk things over. They 
might be worse. They might be far worse. 
Yes, indeed. Even if it wasn’t a case of no 
choice, I do believe that a summer on this 
quiet island will put new snap into Charles 
Barnard. Snap in him means snap for your 
mother, too. Isn’t any needed for you young- 
sters. You and Nugent have made me so 
proud I’ve had to bow my head every time I 
stepped through my doorway — growing so 
tall thinking about you! Which room do 
you think would be best for your moth- 
er’s?” 

“ That big one facing the east.” 

“ So I think. ’Twas my own mother’s, and 


222 AN HONOR GIRL 

her mother’s before her. Good women all. A 
blessing rests on it.” 

“ Mother loves the sunrise ; and the view is 
lovely. How odd it will seem to live on an 
island ! and how lovely to be able to watch the 
shadows of the mountains in the river at any 
time I want.” 

The old man rubbed his hands in glee. 

“ That’s right, Amy, girl ! That’s right. 
Take things that way; look at the bright side 
of life, and behold! every side is a bright 
side ! ” 

“ Even being poor? ” 

“ Even being far poorer than you will be.” 

“ How the Faculty grows ! ” 

“ Eh ? What ? I guess I don’t under- 
stand.” 

“ Maybe I haven’t told you. Don’t you 
know that I’m a student at the College of 
Life? I won a scholarship there, last year. 
There’s no end of the Professors of the Fac- 
ulty to instruct me. There’s Professor Slan- 
der, for one; his classes are in Patience and 
Long-suffering when one’s good is evil spoken 
of. There’s Professor Arrogance; instructs 
in Humility and Modesty. Points his lessons 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 


223 

by examples : as when those who used to flat- 
ter and court pass one by unseen, because one 
wears a last year’s frock or can no longer en- 
tertain with any sort of ‘ style.’ This morn- 
ing, Professor Superstition was added to the 
corps. A woman professor, to train me in 
domestic science; a dabbler in hoodoo and 
folk-lore ; can prove, infallibly, that the ‘ crow- 
in’ of a girl-chicken means a death in the fam- 
bly,’ and that to put a garment on wrong side 
out brings either good or bad ‘ luck.’ I forget 
which.” 

“ That Rebecca!” 

“ None other. Though she has become a 
‘ Mis’ Wabbles ’ since she left us.” 

“ And you took her back, after her heartless 
behavior? ” 

“ She took herself back. I had no option. 
I didn’t even ask mother what to do. I left her 
to get the dinner when the time comes, and 
meanwhile to clean the kitchen, as it has not 
been cleaned in — ages. Of course, when 
mother does find her there — Becky’s planning 
a surprise, too, so you’re not the only one — if 
she wishes not to keep her, ‘ Mis’ Wabbles 9 
will have to march.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


224 

“ I think she’s sent on purpose.” 

“ For what? I was doing the best I could.” 

“ And a very fair best it was, darling. But 
to help with the moving. That would be a 
task beyond your strength, even if not beyond 
your ambition. I, too, plan to have a finger in 
that pie.” 

“ Oh! you dear old Uncle John! What do 
you not plan to help in for us ? I — I don’t see 
why God makes you so good to us ! It ought 
to be the other way. It is we who should be 
good to you and care for you.” 

“ Aren’t you good to me ? Isn’t it some- 
thing for an old man like me to have a likely 
pair of youngsters to plan for and to keep his 
heart warm? Why, child, it’s my pleasure, 
my pleasure, to know I can still be of use to 
you. I shall feel it an honor to have your 
mother and father on this Island, and shall 
serve them to the best of my ability. Of 
course, you know I shall look upon you as my 
guests while you stay.” 

“ Oh, that would be impossible. You’re too 
generous for your own good, and I know 
father and mother will never accept such a sac- 
rifice on your part. Why, think of it. Four 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 225 

people, maybe five — if one reckons that burr- 
like Rebecca — and two of them with prodi- 
gious appetites. If you give us house-room 
you mustn’t find us in what Becky terms ‘ vic- 
tuals.’ ” 

The fisherman’s face saddened ; but only for 
a moment. When he looked up again the 
smile had returned to his lips and the whimsi- 
cal twinkle to his eyes, which had never as yet 
been hidden behind glasses. 

“ Come, Amy, ‘ let us reason together.’ 
You nibble away at this puppy-nose apple, that 
I’ve kept all winter wrapped in paper for you. 
There are more where it came from, so don’t 
‘ save it for father.’ ‘ Father ’ has had his 
share of good things. That’s yours to enjoy.” 

Amy’s white teeth were already set in the 
crimson skin of the fruit, and she nodded her 
head, meaning : “I’m ready to hear the ‘ rea- 
son,’ if not to be convinced by it.” 

Old John went on: 

“ I have just two thousand dollars in the 
bank. Money I saved years ago — one-half of 
it — for my own family. I have never touched 
it, and it has doubled itself. Now, I propose 
to let it draw another kind of compound inter- 


226 AN HONOR GIRL 

est — the interest of love and gratitude, if you 
will. It may be, though, that we will not have 
to use any of it. What with my good trade and 
Nugent’s earnings there should be enough to 
feed us all. There’ll be some expense in mov- 
ing, but we’ll make it as light as may be. I’ll 
hire the sloop of a man I know and fetch what 
stuff you need across the water, and I think 
your father’s old porter will be glad to give his 
good master a lift by carting the goods from 
house to river-shore. Yet it will make us all 
comfortable to know there’s the bank money 
waiting should we want it. If there is any 
surplus after I’m done with it, I’ve always in- 
tended it for you. I simply left it to keep me 
in the days when my usefulness was past. If 
I’m useful to the end, the more for my bonny 
girl, who must put those tears out of her eyes 
this minute ! Why,' missy, what are you cry- 
ing about now, anyway ? ” 

“ Your nobleness, Uncle John.” 

“ Consternation ! For an invisible thing 
like that! Suppose I cry about yours? ’Tisn’t 
fair to have all the salt water on one side.” 

“Mine ! You dear old silly ! ” 

“Thanks, Don't I know? I'm ‘Uncle 


SOME OF THE FACULTY 


227 

John* to half Warden; yet who, of all its 
young folks, comes to me and makes me the 
close, real friend that you and Nugent do? 
I’m a ‘ nice old fellow ’ to the rest of them, but, 
child, don’t I appreciate being more than that 
to you? Indeed, it is the marrow, the sweet- 
ness of my fading life. There, there, don’t 
let’s get sentimental — two such common-sense 
folks as we are. ‘ Giff-gaff makes good 
friends.’ Come, now, we’ll go over the whole 
house and look at it critically again. Plan a 
place for everything, then when ‘ everything ’ 
comes its place will be ready.” 

Amy followed promptly. She was amazed, 
herself, to find how easily she accepted this 
change of residence, and how full of delight 
the Island would really be. Her spirits rose, 
she met the fisherman’s suggestions with 
practical comments of her own concerning her 
parents’ comfort, and found the morning gone 
before she realized it. When he had to re- 
mind her that it was twelve o’clock she was 
surprised, and exclaimed : 

“ Professor Poverty is almost the best of the 
Faculty. Instead of being stern and disagree- 
able, like Drs. Slander and Arrogance, he’s 


228 


AN HONOR GIRL 


simple and delightful. He’s almost as charm- 
ing as Professor Gray, and that man’s name 
stands to me for the highest. Good-bye, Pro- 
fessor Gay; I appoint you — nay, God himself 
appointed you — to the Chair of Cheerfulness 
in my Life College. You’re better than Pro- 
fessor Poverty, you’re the dearest of the 
group. No; don’t bother to go to the wharf 
with me. I can manage well enough ; but when 
will you tell mother about this moving ? ” 

“ Amy, you’d better do that yourself.” 

“ Oh! Uncle John!” 

“ So Professor Cheerfulness directs ! Whose 
words can be as wise as a tender daughter’s? 
and there’s everything in the way a case is 
put.” 

“ I see, I see ! If I speak of the benefit to 
father that a summer over here will be, she 
will mind the rest far less. That, I suppose, 
is being ‘ as wise as a serpent and as harmless 
as a dove.’ Well, I’ll try it. Good-bye.” 

But it was with far less delight that the girl 
rowed homewards than she had felt on her 
outward trip; yet as she neared the shore she 
caught sight of somebody waiting there who 
brought the smiles again to her face. 


CHAPTER XVI 


REUNIONS 

“Edna! Oh, Edna!” 

“ Amy — my sweet ! ” 

They could scarcely wait to meet, and 
stretched arms toward one another with the 
impatient enthusiasm of girlhood, the world 
over. Then Amy caught up the oars she had 
dropped and sent her little craft leaping to the 
wharf, where she sprang out and left it to its 
fate while she clasped her friend in a warm 
embrace. 

“ Oh ! are you really, really here ? ” 

“ Really — and how good it is ! Stand back. 
Let me look at you! Why, child you’re thin- 
ner than you used to be, but — darling, you’re 
even lovelier ! ” cried Edna, holding the other 
at a distance. 

“ And you! Why, Ned, you’re quite the 
young woman of fashion ! How you’ve 
grown! or is it that long skirt that makes the 


229 


AN HONOR GIRL 


230 

difference? When did you come? How is 
the dear Madam? Are you going to stay? 
Talk, talk! ” 

“ Oh ! I’ll talk fast enough — you know I can 
do it — after you’ve tied your boat. No need 
to lose that even if you have gained me. I 
mean to have ever so many rows in it this 
summer.” 

A few moments later they were walking, 
arm in arm, up the shaded hill road toward 
Amy’s home, but finding, after all, that 
speech was more difficult than they had 
dreamed. 

“ It’s almost a year since we parted, dearie.” 

“ Almost a year, and so many things happen 
in a year,” answered Amy somewhat gravely. 

Edna clasped her closer and responded with 
a similar gravity : 

“ I know some of the things which have 
happened to you, though your letters have 
been few and short. You usually left out the 
real inside matters that I wanted most to hear 
about.” 

“ There was so little to write that was 
bright. Father’s long illness and mother’s 
anxiety; Nugent’s hard times as a farmer’s 


REUNIONS 


231 

apprentice; my own learning to do housework 
— the real work part of the house, Edna; 
none of that would have been interesting to 
you, in your altogether different life.” 

“When did you learn to misjudge me? 
Haven’t you always been my one dearest 
friend? Why should I change?” 

“ I’m glad you haven’t, though my life must 
seem dull to you, after all your variety. Tell 
me, has Madam, your grandmother, come 
home to stay? ” 

“ 4 Forever and a day,’ she declares. Oh ! 
what a year we’ve had! I’ve learned to live 
in a trunk — or trunks. I’ve become a light- 
ning packer. We’ve gone from 4 Pontius to 
Pilate,’ according to Peter. By the way, since 
our man has married your woman, the families 
have become * connections,’ haven’t they ? 
Grandma has tried every spa and spring — 
hot, cold, or tepid — to be heard of anywhere. 
I’ve learned more about our ‘ Sweet Land of 
Liberty ’ during ten months of travel than in 
all my geography lessons put together. Ah! 
I shall appreciate keeping still for a while. 
Now, your turn.” 

“ I’ve summed all our affairs in what I said 


AN HONOR GIRL 


232 

before, or nearly all. Though this very morn- 
ing I’ve had an unpleasant-pleasant surprise. 
We must soon leave our home ; it is to be sold. 
That’s the unpleasant part; the pleasant and 
comforting is that another is being made ready 
for us, by one who can ill afford such gener- 
osity.” 

“ Your pretty home to be sold ! Oh, Amy ! ” 

“ Dear Uncle John has offered his house on 
the Island for the summer. It will be charm- 
ing over there. You must be often with 
us.” 

Edna understood that it was a case where to 
express no sympathy, or, rather, no pity, was 
the surest proof of friendship. That Amy 
had suffered a great shock was as evident as 
that she was trying to endure it courageously. 

“ What a delightful excuse for me to learn 
to row! Grandma has always been afraid of 
my going on the water, but she’ll surely con- 
sent now, since that’s the only road by which 
I can pass to you. If I only had a gondola 
and a dark-eyed gondolier! We could imagine 
ourselves in Venice. I think it will be lovely 
over there. I’ll come to picnic with you any 
day you ask me.” 


REUNIONS 


233 


“ Don’t wait for the asking.” 

“ How has Sir Cat been conducting him- 
self?” 

“ Well. Well, indeed. That boy has 
worked like a hero. He is a sort of hero, too. 
Did you hear about the colts and the re- 
ward ? ” 

“ I knew that a reward had been offered by 
Mr. Growden, but nothing had come of it be- 
fore I went away.” 

They had now turned from the field path 
into the main road and Amy was about to an- 
swer when they saw a farm wagon rolling to- 
ward them at a good pace, and both exclaimed, 
at once : 

“There’s Nugent, now!” 

Edna added : 

“ That will save us a long tramp, for I was 
going to ask you to walk to the farm with me, 
to see about the horses. Grandma wants them 
sent home, and Peter’s sick with rheumatism, 
so can’t be called on for any errands.” 

“ Mr. Growden is so queer. You’d better 
go out and see him yourself. Nugent has 
given offense, already, by transacting some 
of the farmer’s business for him.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


234 

With that Amy waved to her brother who 
rather reluctantly stopped his team alongside 
the spot where they had halted. He was in 
his working rig of blouse and overalls, a big 
straw hat crowning his sun-browned face and 
chestnut curls, and was consciously awkward 
in a costume which perfectly suited his busi- 
ness and that Edna thought most becoming. 
He was honestly glad to see her, yet succeeded 
only in lifting his hat and making a sidelong 
bow. 

She had already extended her hand, but 
withdrew it, turning toward Amy with a 
twinkle in her eyes and the request : 

“ Introduce us, please.” 

Whereupon the lad laughed, held out his 
own hand, and remarked : 

“ Didn’t know that so fashionable a young 
lady would remember a working boy.” 

“ Didn’t know I had common sense ? 
Thank you.” 

Again Nugent laughed, and in that laugh 
became natural ; a straightforward, honest- 
hearted fellow who really felt himself the 
equal of anybody, despite his surface shyness. 
For a brief time he and his old friend and tor- 


REUNIONS 


235 

mentor regarded each other with kindly curi- 
osity, taking note of the changes a year had 
made ; then said the girl : 

“ Well, Fm waiting.” 

“ So I see. For what? ” 

“ To be invited to take a drived 

“ With me ? In these clothes ? In this old 
wagon ? These work-horses ? ” 

“ How else?” 

“ You'd not be ashamed? You, too, Amy? 
How are mother and father? ” 

“ As usual. Becky has returned. That’s 
why I’m loafing this morning. But I must 
get home now. It’s nearly dinner-time.” 

“ There’s one accomplishment you haven’t 
lost, Mr. Farmer: that of asking questions. 
Only, you do not ask the one question I long to 
hear.” 

“ Miss Merton, may I have the pleas- 
ure ? ” 

“ Assuredly. The pleasure will be mine.” 

“ I must drive in but one direction. I’m not 
my own master.” 

“Nor I my own mistress. And your road 
is mine — to end at the Growden farm.” 

As Nugent sprang down from one side of 


AN HONOR GIRL 


236 

the wagon, to assist her in, Edna as lightly 
leaped upward on the other side and smilingly 
seated herself to await his pleasure. 

“ Oh, Ned ! you haven’t changed a bit ! ” 
cried Amy joyfully. 

“ If you’ll both kindly rid yourselves of the 
notion that I could change you’ll oblige me. 
Now, boy, I’m in a hurry. I wasted a lot of 
time running about town looking for Amy 
and found her but a few minutes ago. I try 
to be around when grandma takes her 
luncheon, for, of late, she fancies I can fix her 
various messes better than Parsons can. Un- 
fortunately, Parsons doesn’t agree with her, 
and, if I’m not on hand, tyrannizes my poor 
dear into eating anything offered. Oh, Nu- 
gent! I’m so sorry. You’ll let me say that to 
you, won’t you ? Though I dared not to Amy. 
There was a proud, don’t-you-pity-me look in 
her eyes that dashed my sympathy before it 
was expressed.” 

The lad flushed and answered: 

“ Maybe it runs in the family, that spirit. 
And you haven’t forgotten how to talk, have 
you?” 

“ To say so mean a thing when I’ve just 


REUNIONS 


237 

come home! Really, boy, isn’t there any way 
to avert it? ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” he asked quickly. 

“ The selling of your home.” 

“ Oh, Ned ! Has Amy heard that already? ” 

“Yes. John Gay has just told her and, at 
the same time, offered his Island house for 
your use. He’s at work repairing and altering 
it, Amy says, and it will be an ideal spot for 
the summer. But to lose the home, I can’t 
bear that. I’ve always thought it the prettiest 
place in Warden, and I can’t imagine anybody 
save your family living there.” 

Nugent’s head drooped and his face lost all 
its brightness. 

“It’s all my fault, Edna.” 

“ Your fault? How can it be? ” 

“ If I’d gone into the store when father 
wished me to, and needed me so badly, things 
might have been different. The two of us 
might have kept closer watch over the business 
and he could have prevented some, at least, of 
the unwarranted expenses his partner under- 
took. Poor father ! He worked single- 
handed, against great odds ; half-ill for 
months, under fretting anxiety ; and I, his only 


238 AN honor girl 

son, the last of the Barnards, refusing to help 
him.” 

“ You didn’t realize it, I suppose. Any- 
way, could you have stopped it? ” 

“ To the extent, maybe, that we could have 
sacrificed everything else yet kept the place. 
It will nearly kill my father to leave it. As for 
mother — I dare not think about her. I tell 
you what, Edna Merton, the hardest thing in 
the world is to know that your own foolishness 
has ruined others! But,” — he added, after a 
pause, — “ if I did ruin them I will make them 
rich again ! ” 

“ Good. That’s the talk. If I were a boy 
there isn’t anything in the world I couldn’t 
accomplish.” 

“ Now you’re ridiculing me.” 

“ I’m not. I feel that way. It’s an easy 
way to feel, because I’m a girl and don’t have 
to be so very ambitious. How will you be- 
gin?” 

“ I’ve already begun. Or Johnny has be- 
gun for me. I couldn’t have done anything 
without that horse.” 

“ I hate riddles.” 

“ This isn’t a riddle, it’s a fact. Amy had 


REUNIONS 


239 

no time to ride him, even if she’d learned how. 
But evenings, after even old Growden ” 

“ Mr. Growden, please.” 

“ Was satisfied that I had done a full day’s 
work, I’d ride off up the mountain on Johnny 
and forget everything that was disagreeable. 
Your right ear should have burned, lots of 
times, I used to think so gratefully about you. 
As I said before, if it hadn’t been for Johnny 
I should never have dreamed of it. Do I look 
like a dreamer? ” 

“ Hm-m. I — I wouldn’t like to say. I’ve 
no use for dreamers. I like practical folks.” 

“ I’ll be practical enough, when the time 
comes. Did you know that I was a landed 
proprietor ? ” 

“ I did not.” 

“ I am. My grandfather, for whom I’m 
named, made a speculation once. It was said 
to be the only time in his conservative life. He 
bought a strip of land on Gray Mountain 
because somebody had convinced him that the 
hill was full of iron ore. He lost his cool head, 
and wasted money on the scheme. There 
certainly is iron in Gray Mountain, though not 
enough to pay for mining. Nevertheless, it’s 


AN HONOR GIRL 


240 

out of that very peak, out of my own bit of 
‘ mother earth ’ which grandfather willed me, 
that the fortunes of the family are to be re- 
stored. More than restored. In the past 
we’ve never been anything better than just 
well-to-do; in the future we’re to be rich; and 
that will be due to you and your Johnny, Ned.” 

Edna’s curiosity was greater than her faith 
in his declarations, still she had caught some- 
thing of his enthusiasm. 

“ Quick, lad. Tell me all about it.” 

“ It began with the reward Mr. Growden 
offered. The H. T. D. Society got no trace of 
the two colts, and it came into my head that 
maybe they’d strayed into some ravine on old 
Gray. When I was a little chap I used to 
about live up there ; I felt so rich ‘ owning a 
mountain,’ and I’d been over every rod of it, 
nearly. I knew there were places where an 
animal might easily get trapped and where no 
one could follow on horseback.” 

“Why didn’t they go on foot? Two hun- 
dred dollars is quite a sum.” 

“Yes, if anybody else than old — beg par- 
don — Mr. Growden had offered it. People 
haven’t much faith in his promises, despite his 


REUNIONS 


241 

boast that he is a perfectly just man. He is 
just — according to his ‘lights/ which don’t 
happen always to be the ‘ lights ’ of others. 
The impression was that he’d try some chi- 
canery to get out of paying the money even if 
the colts were found. The impression was 
correct ! ” 

“ He wouldn’t be so mean ! ” 

“Wouldn’t he? Meanness comes as easy 
to him as falling off a log.” 

“ Go on. Tell the rest.” 

“Well, I did find them; in a gully where 
there was plenty of feed for a few weeks, at 
least, and a stream of fresh water. Remem- 
ber the Babcocks ? The half-witted old couple 
of mountaineers, ‘ squatters ’ ? ” 

“ The pair that used to bring baskets around 
to sell?” 

“ The identical. They live in a shanty in 
that hollow where the colts were, and had kept 
the creatures from leaving it. Though they 
can’t read, and had never heard of the reward, 
not happening to come to town after it was 
offered, their witlessness was still shrewdness 
enough to know a good thing when they saw 
it. They knew that horses brought money, 


AN HONOR GIRL 


242 

and meant 4 some time ’ to drive their find into 
Warden and sell them. But they were so 
shiftless they 4 didn’t never get ’round to it 
yit,’ till I appeared on the scene and explained 
matters. Then, do you believe they refused 
to let the animals go until they — they — had 
been paid the full reward ! ” 

“ They’re not so foolish as they seem, are 
they?” 

“ Ned, isn’t it amazing how keen everybody 
is after money? ” 

“ Even Nugent Barnard! ” 

“ Even he ! The outcome of it all was that 
I rode home, hot foot, and told my boss. Then 
what do you think he did and said ? ” 

“ I haven’t a notion. Only I imagine from 
what you hinted that it was something petty.” 

“ Refuses to pay the reward to anybody. 
Not to me, 4 because I’m in his employ and all 
my services belong to him.’ Even my time 
4 after hours,’ since I hired by the month and 
not the day ! And not to the Babcocks, 4 be- 
cause they didn’t find the colts — the colts 
found them — and did not report the fact.’ 
Somebody suggested that the mountaineers 
should go to law, and Growden says : 4 Let 


REUNIONS 


243 

’em ! ’ He knows well enough that they’re no 
match for him, and that none but a pettifog- 
ger, such as I used to clerk for, would under- 
take the case.” 

“ And Grover Growden considers himself a 
just man! ” 

“ So he says. But ” 

“ Nugent, how could you stay with him af- 
terward ? ” 

“ Do you suppose I enjoyed it? But I was 
determined not to be idle. I like farming. I 
like it immensely. Some day, maybe, I’ll be 
a scientific farmer, the only kind that can be 
successful these days. I made up my mind to 
learn the business, all the practical part of it, 
and I couldn’t do so under any better teacher. 
Old — I mean, Mr. — Growden can get more 
and better crops out of his land than any other 
man in the county. He’s made a study of the 
soil, and what affects it, and I’ve been watch- 
ing him mighty close. He doesn’t half like it, 
yet rather does, too. Amy and I have gone 
into chemistry this past year.” 

“Together? How delightful. I liked 
chemistry, the bit I dabbled in it at school.” 

“ You know Professor Gray offered to help 


AN HONOR GIRL 


244 

her in any way he could, with her studies, 
after she gave up college. She had mighty 
little time for any study, poor girl! and I reck- 
on would have preferred a course in literature. 
But she gave that up to learn what she could 
of chemistry, to help me.” 

“ She’s always giving up for somebody, the 
dear, unselfish girl ! ” 

“ Don’t fancy I’m not appreciative, this 
time. Indeed, I wouldn’t have asked it only 
I know, in the end, it will be to her own advan- 
tage. Oh, there’s nobody can tell me any- 
thing about my sister’s goodness that I don’t 
know. She’s an ‘ honor girl ’ clear through.” 

Edna gave him a commending smile, and 
felt that she had never liked him so well. He 
seemed quite another Nugent from the old, 
indolent, thoughtlessly selfish boy she had 
known, and she exclaimed with rather unflat- 
tering frankness: 

“If to ‘ study farming ’ improves everybody 
as much as it has you, it would be a fine thing 
for Warden to have an agricultural school 
opened here.” 

“ Thank you.” 

“ You’re welcome. Well, go on about 


REUNIONS 245 

the chemistry and your plan for money- 
making.” 

But he would not. He fancied that under- 
neath her outward sympathy lay a distrust of 
his powers and ridicule of his enthusiasm. His 
lips closed firmly, and not another word es- 
caped them till they reached the farm, when 
he remarked : 

“ You’ll find old Growden in his office.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


A BUSINESS CALL 

“ Miss Edna, there’s a young gentleman in 
the parlor asking for Madam, and she’s just 
gone to her room. What shall I do? ” 

“ Didn’t he send up his name? ” 

“ Yes. I guess it was Barnum or some- 
thing. He isn’t a real gentleman, you know. 
Hadn’t any card, or such, and looks like a 
working man. Seems to be in a hurry, and 
wouldn’t take ‘ no ’ for an answer. Says it’s 
very important he should see the mistress, and 
I told him if it was a tradesman with a bill I’d 
take it, and, goodness! you’d thought I’d in- 
sulted him, the way he turned on me, and 
asked : ‘Will you, or will you not, carry 
my message to your mistress ? ’ Of all the 
airs ! ” 

“ Oh ! poor Parsons ! when will you learn 
that there are ‘gentlemen,’ real gentlemen, 
who do not wear evening clothes after six 
246 


A BUSINESS CALL 


247 

o’clock? Living in hotels half your life has 
spoiled you, my good Parsons, and I myself 
will see the visitor. It’s my old friend, Nu- 
gent Barnard, of course ; but what can he want 
with grandma ? ” 

A moment later the girl entered the room, 
where Nugent was impatiently striding about, 
looking at the pictures on the walls, or turning 
the pages of the magazines upon the table, and 
doing nothing for more than a few seconds at 
a time. Shyness and determination mingled 
are not a comfortable compound, and the pay- 
ing of an evening call was a trial he always 
avoided, if possible. At the sound of a foot- 
step, too light and brisk to belong to Madam 
Merton, he faced about and, at once forgot 
his shyness in his indignation. 

“ I called to see your grandmother.” 

“ Yes, Nugent, so I understood. But she 
has gone up to her own sitting room for the 
evening, and will not likely come down again, 
unless for something ( very important/ ” mis- 
chievously quoting his own words to the maid, 
and glancing curiously toward a case of bottles 
standing upon the floor. 

“ Wouldn’t she see me upstairs? ” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


248 

“ Come, Nugent, don’t act stiff and cranky. 
If I offended you yesterday, on our ride to the 
farm, I’m sorry for it, and can’t guess how. 
Tell me your errand, please, and I’ll interview 
grandma myself.” 

If he had been less in earnest he would have 
gone away in a huff. But he had had what 
he believed was an “ inspiration,” and his 
dominant idea was to act upon it. He saw 
that the shortest way to his end lay in explain- 
ing matters to Edna and winning her co-oper- 
ation, if possible. So he brought a chair and 
placed it for her, having, despite Parsons’ 
hasty judgment, the instincts and training of 
a gentleman; then lifted a paper-wrapped bot- 
tle and seated himself near her. With this ob- 
ject in his hand, to serve as a text, he felt he 
could talk convincingly. 

“ Well, I fancy I was disagreeable myself, 
Edna, and apologize. It shan’t happen again — 
till next time ! We’ve always ‘ squabbled ’ and 
always shall, I reckon ; but if I didn’t like you I 
surely wouldn’t now be putting myself in your 
power, so to speak.” 

“ Heigh-ho ! This grows interesting.” 

“ I’ll go back to our Johnny talk,” said Nu- 


A BUSINESS CALL 


249 

gent ; and, having proceeded thus far, lost him- 
self in his own thoughts. 

“ Go on, please. So suggestive of johnny- 
cake.” 

“ Excuse me. I got thinking.” 

“ An excellent thing for a ‘ dreamer.’ ” 

“ One of my pet rides on your Johnny was 
to the Yellow Spring. Do you remember it? ” 

“ Do I not ? See that scar on my wrist : a 
souvenir of your dirty Yellow Spring, and the 
jagged rocks which guard it.” 

“ The right word exactly : ‘ Guard.’ That 
spring is on my land, and is my fortune.” 

“ Indeed ? Are you talking sense or non- 
sense ? ” 

Nugent airily waved the bottle he held, for- 
getting that its cork was not tight-fitting, and 
Edna’s dainty gown received an ugly stain. 
Her calm self-possession under the annoying 
circumstance revealed her high breeding, and 
she lightly motioned him back to his chair 
when he sprang up, confused and sorry. 

“ It’s the truth. That knowledge is the re- 
sult of our chemistry studies. Amy and I have 
analyzed the water, and found it superior to 
almost all the famous springs in the country. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


250 

I’ve brought this lot for — to ask — do you sup- 
pose Madam Merton will try it ? ” 

“ Why she, especially ? ” 

“ She’s so splendidly rheumatic, or gouty, 
or whatever it is. Ned , — do you suppose 
that she’d try it? Just to — to make my for- 
tune ? ” 

“ Nugent, I do suppose she’d try anything 
— anything — just for whimsy, if it had the 
word ‘ medical ’ tacked to it. The thing to 
suppose in the beginning, is whether I’ll let her 
try it.” 

“ What do you mean?” 

“ What I say.” 

“ You wouldn’t stand between Amy and 
wealth!” 

“ I’d stand between my precious old dear 
and any young crank in the universe, even my 
beloved Amy’s brother. There.” 

“ But I’m not a crank. The thing is fine. 
Genuine. I’ve tested it. This water con- 
tains ” 

“ Spare me. I’d rather not be informed.” 

“ I believe it will surely cure her.” 

“ I’m sorry I can’t share your belief.” 

“Ned, how can you be so hard? It’s such 


A BUSINESS CALL 


251 

a trifle I ask. If I could see her herself for 
one minute ” 

“ Wheedling won’t move me. Grandma 
sweet isn’t to be poisoned by any nasty stale 
water from Yellow Spring.” 

“ ’Tisn’t stale. Beg pardon for so flat a 
contradiction. I walked up there this very 
evening and brought a demijohn of it down to 
the house. Bought all these fresh bottles from 
the drug store, and then came here with them. 
It’s as fresh as can be. It’s always bubbling 
over the little basin in the rocks, and has been 
going to waste these ages, instead of curing 
the suffering anywhere.” 

“ Why has nobody discovered its marvelous 
virtue before ? ” 

“ Been waiting for a leader, probably. 
There is an Indian tradition concerning it: 
that if a redskin was ill his tribe would either 
carry him to the Spring and bathe him in its 
waters, or carry the water to him. The taste 
is against its common use.” 

“ Ugh ! I should think so, indeed. Sort of 
an Indian flavor left after the bath. Ugh! 
you horrid boy.” 

“ You hateful girl. Taking a fellow up that 


AN HONOR GIRL 


252 

short. You know there hasn’t been an Indian 
in these parts for generations. Likely their 
last 4 bath ’ has flowed away. But, come. 
Please don’t be silly nor prejudiced. Preju- 
dice is always a sign of ignorance. Won’t you 
take me to Madam, and let me plead my cause 
with her? ” 

“ Exactly what do you want or expect of 
her, boy?” 

“ To drink the water. To drink it for sev- 
eral successive days, and see if it doesn’t help 
her.” 

Edna’s color rose. She could scarcely be- 
lieve her own ears. When she could speak, 
she inquired, with frigid coolness : 

“ Do you expect that my grandmother, my 
grandmother — Madam Merton — will make a 
freak exhibit of her aristocratic self, to adver- 
tise the merits of your insufferable Spring? 
Faugh ! The fumes of that bottle you hold in 
your hand are enough to settle the question 
why nobody has ever utilized it before.” And 
a very dainty handkerchief was held to an up- 
turned nose. 

“ I admitted it was nasty, but I maintain 
that it is good. Pooh, Ned. I didn’t think — 



“ Why, it's Nugent, isn't it ? ” — Page 253. 






A BUSINESS CALL 


253 

I hoped Well, good-evening. I know 

now just how great a value to put upon your 
friendship.” 

Both had risen, and both were more seri- 
ously angry than they had ever before been 
with each other. With a fierce air Nugent 
swung his case of bottles to his shoulder, 
bowed, and strode into the hall, and — into 
Madam Merton. 

“ Ah, beg pardon, Madam c I did not 
know ” 

“ So I perceive. Why, it’s Nugent, isn’t it? 
I heard the ring, and asked Parsons who had 
called. She thought an ‘ agent ’ of some sort, 
yet somebody whom Edna knew. I judged 
I’d best come down. How are your parents? 
I’m hoping to call upon them the first time I 
drive out. It will take some time to get the 
horses into fit condition for use, though; that 
farmer of yours has kept them so short. He 
sent me word I wouldn’t find them too fat or 
overfed and — I haven’t.” 

Nugent had flashed a triumphant glance to- 
ward Edna, who sat frowning while he set 
down his case again and rolled an easy-chair 
forward for the old lady. She was fond of 


AN HONOR GIRL 


254 

the young people, and was regarding his 
growth and improvement with much pleasure. 
Then her keen nostrils detected the odor of the 
water, and she sniffed it eagerly. 

“ Hhuf ! Hhuf ! What’s that? Smells like 
that Sulphur Spring in Kentucky. Iron, too! 
I smell iron.” 

With a comical gesture of despair the 
granddaughter threw up her hands and 
strolled to the rear of the room. Nugent sent 
a second glance of triumph after her, which 
she did not see, then addressed himself to the 
Madam, and with an eloquence he did not 
himself know he possessed. Edna, listening, 
knew that her opposition was in vain, and re- 
turned to stand guard behind her grand- 
mother, meaning to interject as many dispar- 
aging remarks as possible, even if they would 
do no good. 

“ You've tested it, have you? Know its 
chemical properties exactly?” 

“ Yes, Madam. I’ve brought our analysis. 
Let me show you, please.” 

Edna groaned, and the old gentlewoman 
turned her head. “ Don’t you feel well, 
Neddy? ” 


A BUSINESS CALL 


255 


“ Not very, grandma.” 

“ Ring for glasses, dear, and take a sip of 
this mineral water. I don't doubt it will help 
you, if Nugent can spare it.” 

“ Delighted, Madam. I brought the whole 
case for you, if you’ll kindly accept it.” 

“ Grandma! Grandma! I protest. You 
must not taste the filthy stuff. It will kill you. 
Don’t.” 

“ Stuff and nonsense, child. As if there was 
any water, in our mountains roundabout, that 
could hurt anybody. I’ve always wished we 
might discover another spring of healing 
qualities. With so few ” 

“ Beg pardon, grandma, but few ! Why, 
you yourself have visited hundreds, seems to 
me.” 

“ Hm-m. The trouble with this generation, 
it will exaggerate. The glasses, Neddy. 
Have you rung ? ” 

“ Must I?” 

“ Certainly. At once. If Nugent has taken 
all this trouble for me, I surely must try his 
gift.” 

Edna rang, as commanded, but turned upon 
her opponent with a final demand: 


AN HONOR GIRL 


256 

“ Nugent Barnard, will you drink your own 
stuff? You yourself? ” 

“ Of course I will;” but the girl noticed 
that there was a brief hesitation before his 
answer rang out so firmly. 

“ Of course,” agreed the courtly Madam ; 
“ Mr. Barnard is not the gentleman to offer 
that to others which he will not take himself.” 

Nugent winced and recognized the veiled 
mischief of the lady’s words. But he felt him- 
self “ in for it,” and determined to carry the 
matter off to the letter. His faith in the 
Spring was inviolable, but the immediate ef- 
fect of a draught from it upon himself had in- 
variably been nauseating. 

The maid arrived with a tray of tumblers, 
and Nugent poured out some of the yellowish 
water for Madam, who quietly set the glass 
upon her knee, and remarked : 

“ One, half-full, for Edna, please, and an- 
other for yourself. When I’m ever at a spa 
I like to take the water in company with my 
friends. It’s so much more agreeable. No- 
body dares make a wry face before the others. 
Now, let’s hope this will prove my cure — and 
your fortune ! ” 


A BUSINESS CALL 


25; 

As she raised the tumbler toward her lips 
the girl stayed the invalid’s hand. 

“ Why, grandma ! Did you hear what we 
said before you came in ? ” 

“ I did. You didn’t modulate your voices ; 
and I’m not averse to making ‘ the fortune ’ of 
any worthy young fellow who is willing to 
practice what he preaches. In other words — 
to take his own medicine. Drink, children, 
and may success attend us.” 

They obeyed her heroically; for, in their 
cases, it required heroism, but not in hers. 
The fumes which disturbed Edna were ambro- 
sial in her spa-seasoned nostrils, and she emp- 
tied her tumbler with the keenest relish. 

“ Ah ! that was fine, fine.” 

Poor Edna! Worse than the flavor of the 
enforced dose was the reflection : 

“ Grandma will now allow herself to be- 
come an advertisement. Fancy! The picture 
of her sweet, refined old face appearing in 
every magazine and newspaper in the land. 
For I know my grandmother Merton. If she’s 
set out to help this boy’s ‘ fortune,’ she’ll stick 
at nothing, nothing.” 

Then, suddenly, she realized that she needed 


258 an honor girl 

the air, and hastily retreated to the back porch. 
But she was not too quick to hear a low 
chuckle of amusement from Madam, echoed 
rather feebly by Nugent. A moment later she 
heard the front door close, and returned to 
the parlor in an indignant frame of mind. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


FACING THE SITUATION 

From the time of his business failure and 
his recovery from the long illness which had 
prostrated his strength of mind and body, Mr. 
Barnard had lived in his library, evincing 
scant interest in anything outside of the books 
he had always loved, but, hitherto, had had so 
little leisure to enjoy. 

Into this quiet retreat came Amy, troubled 
of face and sick at heart, dreading what she 
must tell, yet eagerly restless till the telling 
was over. Her mother had borne the news of 
the prospective sale with the calmness of one 
who had anticipated it, but she had felt herself 
unequal to the task of rousing her husband to 
a similar acceptance of their fresh misfortune. 

“ If you are able, darling, I wish you would 
explain it to your father. I am weak, maybe, 
but I shrink from the sight of his pain when 
he hears it,” 


259 


26 o an honor girl 

“ I trust I shall always be ‘ able ’ to shield 
you, mother, dearest, from all that I can. I’ll 
go at once. The sooner the better.” 

So she had come, praying inwardly for that 
courage each would need, and laid her hand 
upon her father’s shoulder. 

“ Can you spare me a few minutes, dear? ” 

“ Minutes or hours, nowadays, daughter ? 
My time has long ceased to be of any account. 
But, what’s the matter, child? Has anything 
unpleasant happened?” 

“ It hasn’t happened yet, father, but it’s on 
the road toward us. It will arrive within the 
fortnight. It is this,” and she laid a poster, 
announcing the foreclosure sale, on the desk 
before him. 

For a while he looked at it as if it had no 
meaning for him; then he nodded his head 
silently, and as silently folded the placard and 
placed it in his pocket. He remained so long 
without speaking that Amy became impatient, 
and asked : 

“ Did you expect this, father ? ” 

“ I should have expected it. I should have 
realized that it would come. But I knew, that 
is, I fancied, your mother’s fortune, or rather, 


FACING THE SITUATION 261 

her little legacy, might be applied — Amy, does 
she know? ” 

“ Yes, father ; and you may be sure that the 
‘ legacy ’ is all spent, or she would prevent this 
sale.” 

“All spent? For what? Why? Explain, 
explain.” 

It was a difficult task, but the girl faced it 
bravely. All along, she had felt that her 
father had not realized how their living ex- 
penses were met, and that it was due to her 
mother that he should know. He listened to 
her words intently, asking but few questions, 
yet these such leading ones that in a very few 
sentences he had learned the whole history of 
their past year. 

Again a silence fell between them, while the 
daughter sat trembling for the result of her 
exposures, yet heartily glad that there was no 
more concealment from him. After a time 
she put her arm about his shoulders and 
brought her face around before his own. To 
her surprise she saw him again wearing his old 
expression of determined energy. His eyes 
had lost their dreamy look, his head was reso- 
lutely lifted, and with a little snap he closed the 


262 AN honor girl 

book he had- been reading, as if he had done 
with all that. Then he laid his hand upon her 
head, smiling tenderly, and saying : 

“ Time, then, for me to wake up. I have 
done wrong. I lost heart. The struggle 
seemed useless. Yet how could it! With 
you, my child, to work for. There, kiss me, 
and ask your mother if she will come here. 
But no, stay. I will go to her. Fve fallen 
into bad habits, and you’ve spoiled me between 
you with so much kindness and attention. It’s 
time I should give over all this coddling and 
be a man again. Will you put away these 
books? Lately I’ve been making a few re- 
searches, delving into the probable causes of 
all the great failures of the world. An idle 
pastime and, doubtless, it’s just as well I can’t 
go on with it.” 

Amy restored the volumes to their shelves, 
in a far happier mood than she had dared 
anticipate. 

“ Professor Poverty again ! Even father 
feels his uplifting influence. How wonderful 
it will be if, after all, the loss of our home 
means our returning happiness. For to have 
my father his old active self would be greater 


FACING THE SITUATION 263 

happiness than keeping any home, however 
fine.” 

Before she had completed the task assigned 
her she saw Mr. Barnard pass the window and 
turn into the street toward the town; and 
directly after that her mother came to the 
library, her gentle face far brighter than when 
she had last seen it. 

“ Oh, Amy, daughter, how bravely he bore 
it ! I was afraid it would crush him.” 

The girl laughed. 

“ Mother, I begin to think we’ve all been too 
much ‘ afraid ’ for, and of, each other. I was 
* afraid ’ for you, you for father, old John- 
fisherman for me ; yet we prove not to be such 
a limp sort of family after all. Father started 
off downtown just as he used when he went 
to business. It did me good to see him. 
Why has he gone ? ” 

“ He did not say. Merely kissed me good- 
bye and asked the dinner hour, but I haven’t 
felt so comfortable about him since he was first 
stricken. The very shock of losing his home 
may result in his complete cure.” 

“ ‘ Sweet are the uses of adversity,’ mother- 
kin. I used to think that a piece of cant, but 


AN HONOR GIRL 


264 

t guess it’s real fact. Without saying I’m 
happier than I was before our troubles came, 
which would be untrue, I do feel myself con- 
siderable more of a young woman. Suffi- 
cient, if you’ll direct me, to begin our packing 
this very day. Then we can take it quietly 
and get used to it before we ‘ flit.’ In any case 
it will be a deal easier to leave a torn-up, dis- 
ordered house, than it would be to walk out of 
this just as it stands now.” 

Mrs. Barnard’s cheerfulness was somewhat 
damped by the suggestion, yet she admitted its 
common sense. Besides, she had still a bitter 
piece of news for Amy’s ears. 

“ The packing will not be the great matter 
you expect, dear. The best furniture, the 
books and their cases, most of the pictures, and 
all the floor coverings are included in a ‘ chattel 
mortgage ’ and must remain untouched by us, 
to await their owner’s pleasure. I shall have 
to see our lawyer and find out exactly what is 
and is not left free for us. Just as well that we 
couldn’t take much of our ‘ stuff ’ across to the 
Island. Of course, our stay there will be but 
temporary ; and I hope we can get away before 
the day of sale. It seems to me I could not 


FACING THE SITUATION 265 

quite endure that, nor to see our treasures 
handled roughly by those who look only at 
their intrinsic value.” 

“ Yes, mother, we must go before that,” an- 
swered Amy, all the brightness leaving her 
own face for the moment. 

The entrance of Rebecca gave a timely 
change to their darkening thoughts, and the 
card the servant handed her brought an excla- 
mation of surprise to the girl’s lips. 

“ Mrs. Gray ! The Professor’s wife. Are 
you sure she asked for me, Becky ? ” 

“ Certain sure, missy. S’posin’ I don’t 
know what I hear ? Course she asked for you. 
Said not to interrupt you if you was busy, 
she’d call again.” 

Much puzzled, Amy hastened to the parlor 
and greeted the lady, whom she had often met 
during the past winter and had learned to like 
almost as well as her husband, the Professor. 

After the usual exchange of health, and 
weather, remarks, the visitor promptly intro- 
duced the object of her visit. 

“ Miss Amy, I’ve just learned from Madam 
Merton that it was you who designed all 
Edna’s pretty costumes last summer, and I’ve 


266 


AN HONOR GIRL 


come to ask you if you can help me out, along 
the same lines. You know, the Mertons and 
we were together a long time at Saratoga, 
where my old friend was taking the waters, 
and I had ample time to notice the difference 
in Edna's appearance arid that of most other 
girls at the big hotels. I would be greatly 
obliged if you would suggest a few things to 
my dressmaker; and, of course, will pay you 
whatever you ask for the service.” 

“ But, Mrs. Gray, I could not take money 
from you, though I'd be only too thankful for 
a chance to serve you. The Professor ” 

“ Beg pardon, dear, but the Professor 
knows no more about clothes than I do about 
— logarithms. Yes, I know what you’re 
going to say; some appropriate, but needless, 
thing about gratitude and so on. Between 
you and me, Miss Amy, that matter is all the 
other way. If he was able to help you in your 
studies, last winter, he was more than repaid 
by the chance to do it. Lecturing and teach- 
ing are meat and drink to that man, and I used 
often to pity you, sitting so meekly under his 
dry dissertations.” 

“ But, Mrs. Gray, they weren’t dry to me. 


FACING THE SITUATION 267 

I owe him, maybe I owe him more than any of 
us dream yet.” 

“ Very well, dear, let it stand so. That’s a 
debt between you and him. Between you and 
me it’s a simple question of clothes. Look at 
me. Isn’t this gown a sight? A dumpy 
woman like me to be so beruffled ! But it was 
‘ the pattern ’ and I couldn’t talk the seam- 
stress out of it.” 

Amy laughed. Exhibited in this wise the 
costume she wore did accentuate the fullness 
of the little lady’s plump figure, which was 
shapely enough and with good points that 
might easily have been brought out. 

“ Too many cross lines. It should be thus 
— and thus,” cried the girl, interested at once. 
“ Tell me, please, what materials you have 
chosen.” 

“ A silk, of what my learned husband calls 
an eruptive pattern. You know, one of those 
plain grounds with spotty figures over it. 
Professor makes few comments on my apparel, 
but I generally remember those he does make. 
He calls these ruffles ‘ shelves,’ and said he’d 
like them better in his cabinets. Declares they 
break the ‘ continuity of the idea ’ and such 


268 


AN HONOR GIRL 


trash. Meaning, in short, that my appearance 
doesn’t please him.” 

“ Is it trash ? Upon you, long and simple 
lines would be much prettier. That is, ac- 
cording to my country notions.” 

“ Don’t disparage yourself, Miss Amy. 
The world is swift enough to do that for you. 
And don’t despise your gift of creating beauty, 
even in a woman’s gown. It is a gift. Else 
how came it to you who, if not really country- 
reared, as you suggest, have never lived or 
traveled outside of Warden? You could make 
a fine income for yourself by it, if you chose.” 

“ Here, in this very town, Mrs. Gray? ” 

“ Here, in this very town, my dear. If 
you’re not too proud to do so.” 

Amy felt her momentary enthusiasm failing 
and something rose in her throat to choke her, 
but she answered bravely, facing the cost : 

“ Then I will. I must. And I have to 
thank you, dear Mrs. Gray, as well as your 
husband for great’ favors.” 

A half-frown darkened the visitor’s brow, 
for she was herself so simple and direct that 
she disliked anything like too great effusion, 
but a keen glance into the girl’s clear eyes 


FACING THE SITUATION 269 

showed that she had not expressed all even of 
her own deep feeling. 

“ I am glad if my suggestion will be of use 
to you, and I’ll try to make it wholly practical. 
Be sure you will be of infinite use to others. 
Suppose you come to our house to-morrow 
morning and bring your sketching things with 
you? You can study the stuffs I’ve bought 
and me, your rotund model. Between your 
willingness to dress me and my own to be 
dressed by you, we should be able to please our 
dear Professor, don’t you think?” 

“ I’ll surely come. Won’t you stop to see 
my mother ? ” 

The lady hesitated, remembering an already 
overdue engagement, but regarding, also, the 
changed social condition of Mrs. Barnard and 
her possible suspicion of any fancied slight. 

“ Certainly, for a few moments, if she is at 
leisure. I’m due at our last Shakespeare meet- 
ing in five minutes and meant to stop else- 
where on the road. She’ll pardon a seeming 
haste, I suppose ? ” 

“ Indeed, yes, though I’m sure she’d like a 
glimpse of you, of whom I’ve talked so much.” 

Mrs. Barnard came at once, as much at ease 


AN HONOR GIRL 


270 

and wholly a gentlewoman in her plain house 
gown as the other in her too-beruffled silk ; and 
the brief visit was a mutual pleasure. After- 
ward, when the visitor had gone and her 
errand disclosed, the mother’s cheek did, in- 
deed, flush and she drew her daughter to her 
with a convulsive gesture. 

“ Ah! motherkin! Your child, your, girl, is 
just a bit too fine for common uses, eh? Con- 
fess, now, that’s in your mind ! You’d far 
rather go out into the world and earn money 
than see me do it? ” 

“ Of course. That’s natural.” 

“ But the other way’s right. I’m thankful, 
thankful. Just think! My pictures of other 
women’s gowns shall buy yours, dear. And 
it’s such easy, charming work. Simply to 
sit and look at nice people and make paper 
dolls of them. I shall like it. I really 
shall.” 

“ But, Amy, don’t delude yourself. All 
people are not nice and there’s a seamy side to 
everything. If you work for one person you 
can hardly refuse to do so for another. The 
Warden women of fashion are rarely such as 
Madam Merton, Edna, or Mrs. Gray.” 


FACING THE SITUATION 


27I 

“ Hush a-discouraging of me, motherkin ! ” 
answered Amy playfully. “Who’s afraid? 
Nobody now. We’ve buried that word, you 
know; and each of us, from the father down 
to me, is going to take trouble a-smiling. If 
I’d gone to college I’d have had to wait years 
yet before I could have added to the family 
exchequer. Now — well, this is only one more 
of the times I’m glad I didn’t go. There 
comes father, up the street. I’ll see if dinner 
is nearly ready.” 

Mr. Barnard’s step was not as firm and con- 
fident as it had been when he set out on his 
walk, and his wife knew that he had learned 
from his lawyer all the trying details which 
she had so carefully kept from him. Still, he 
too, smiled bravely in answer to her question- 
ing glance, and said : 

“ It’s all right, Gertrude, I’ve just been get- 
ting down to bottom facts. I see nothing for 
it but that we should accept John Gay’s cot- 
tage for the time being, though I hope to ob- 
tain a situation by which I can pay him a fair 
rent. Well, well. It’s ‘ all in the day’s work,’ 
and when a man is on the ground he can’t well 
fall farther. Yet we mustn’t complain, 


AN HONOR GIRL 


272 

We’re still together; four loving people can 
make a world for themselves if the outside 

one turns against them. Even Nugent 

Whew ! Look out the window, please ! Look 
out the window, quick ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX 


CONCERNING MADAM 

“ Neddy! ” 

“ Yes, grandma. What can I do for you ? ” 

“ Fetch me your riding habit.” 

Surprised, but obedient, Edna left the room, 
yet paused outside the door to ask : 

“ The old, or the new, one, grandmother ? ” 

“ The new one, of course. Do you suppose 
I’m going to wear your hand-me-downs ? ” 

“ You — wear? ” But the idea being so ab- 
surd, the girl gave it no thought save that it 
was a bit of the old lady’s “ nonsense.” 

Presently, she re-entered the sitting room, 
with a handsome habit and equipments over 
her arm, and laid them on the table before the 
Madam’s chair. 

“ What’s to be done to it, grandma ? I 
thought it was in perfect order.” 

“ I hope it is, but if so ’twill be an uncom- 
mon thing for your belongings, Neddy.” 


273 


AN HONOR GIRL 


274 

“ Don’t be hard on a poor girl who’s a-re- 
forming, dear. I’m not half as careless as I 
used to be.” 

“ Indeed, you’re not, child. You’re on the 
right road ; but just keep traveling, please. At 
the end of it you may attain to perfect neat- 
ness.” 

“ I’ll try. But, grandmother sweet, you 
don’t over-flatter a body, do you ? ” 

“ I’d be sorry to begin to be untruthful at 
my age. Stand up here, a minute, please. 
Straight, like a soldier. Let me look at 
you.” 

Edna smiled and assumed a military 
rigidity. 

Madam Merton half closed her eyes, peered 
through, over, and beneath her spectacles, with 
a keenly critical air; then remarked, as if to 
herself : 

“ The same height, the same build, almost 
the same carriage, though my back was always 
straighter. I was brought up with a board on 
my spine. Girls strapped to spine-boards 
never grow up lollers.” 

“ I don’t see how you endured it, grand- 
ma.” 


CONCERNING MADAM 


275 

“ It wasn’t pleasant. It was the fashion. 
That made it easy. Parsons ! ” 

“ Yes, Madam.” 

“ What does the clock say? ” 

“ Twelve, Madam.” 

“ He’ll be here in a half-hour. Come and 
dress me, please. And, Edna, you look out 
the window toward the stables. See if Peter 
has saddled Johnny.” 

“Johnny? Am I to ride, at this hour, 
grandma? ” 

“ No, dear. Fm to ride. If you’ll lend me 
your habit.” 

Both Edna and Parsons were rendered al- 
most speechless by this statement, though the 
former exclaimed : 

“ Grandmother ! What do you mean ? ” 

The old lady laughed. She was enjoying 
the situation intensely and had anticipated the 
scene with many smothered chuckles, during 
the morning just passed. 

“ My child, your tone asks plainer than your 
words, if I’ve gone out of my senses. No, 
dear, I think I’ve just found them. Come, 
Parsons, cease gaping and help me into that 
habit.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


276 

The maid’s hands trembled so as almost to 
refuse their service, but Edna laid a firm hand 
on Madam s shoulder, and asked : 

“ Grandma, are you really going out on 
horseback ? ” 

“ Edna, I expect to ride your Johnny to the 
Yellow Spring,” answered the other, with 
equally solemn voice, but twinkling eyes. 

“ Oh, that boy ! That awful, dreadful, de- 
testable boy ! ” 

“ Has he come ? ” asked the old lady de- 
murely. 

“ No, grandma, and I hope he never will, if 
he’s to aid and abet you in this — this danger- 
ous foolishness.” 

Real tears sprang to the granddaughter’s 
eyes, and her voice trembled more with anxiety 
than indignation. This was sufficient to touch 
the old gentlewoman’s tender heart and she 
dropped her teasing manner for one of quiet 
earnestness. 

“There, Neddy, don’t look so grave; and 
don’t, please don’t, look upon your grand- 
mother as a simpleton. You can see for your- 
self what the waters of that wonderful Yellow 
Spring have done for me since I began to use 


CONCERNING MADAM 


2 77 

them. Can you not? Am I not vastly im- 
proved in health — if not in behavior! — since 
two weeks ago, when Nugent first persuaded 
me to try it? ” 

“ You’re certainly livelier,” admitted Edna 
reluctantly. 

“ I eat better, sleep better, enjoy life better. 
I’m devoutly thankful for all these blessings. 
I’m going now to see that famous Spring for 
myself and the only way in which I can do so 
yet, until I grow strong and nimble enough to 
walk there — unless somebody kindly blasts a 
carriage road thither — is to ride. Johnny is 
the safest beast we have, so I chose him.” 

“Why, grandmother! You haven’t been 
in a saddle since I can remember.” 

“ Sorry I’ve wasted so much time. I must 
change all that.” 

“ But ” Edna’s anxiety now showed in 

an outburst of sobs. 

Madam’s arm went round the shaking shoul- 
ders and drew them gently to her breast. 

“ There, there, little girl. Stop worrying. 
I’m a Kentuckian. I was bred in the saddle; 
almost born in one, so to speak. We’ve all 
been horsemen and horsewomen for genera- 


AN HONOR GIRL 


278 

tions. I shall try the level road first and 
quietly. If all goes as I expect I shall climb 
Gray Mountain with Nugent Barnard as es- 
cort. Be sure he’ll make a careful and most 
watchful one. It means as much, or more, to 
him that my trip turns out successful than 
even to me. I’ve hired him from his employer 
for the rest of the day and he should be here 
now. Look again, please. Come, Parsons, 
don’t dawdle. In my day young women 
didn’t keep their escorts waiting, and I see no 
reason why an old one should begin so rude a 
habit.” 

Watching at the window, indignant and 
anxious, Edna saw Nugent ride over the drive- 
way to the horseblock and reported : 

“ Your cavalier has arrived, grandmother. 
He’s beautifully mounted on Doll, a sorrel 
mare, who’s lost one eye, part of an ear, and 
has a peculiar limp. He’s attired in a riding- 
suit of mixed colors, but wears his Sunday hat 
and, I’ll admit, spotless linen. If he had a 
decent horse he’d not be bad-looking, and I 
shouldn’t object to joining the cavalcade. I 
don’t see why I wasn’t asked.” 

“Do you not, Neddy? I do. Because 


CONCERNING MADAM 


279 

Peter’s mount has gone lame and the carriage 
horses are too fresh for you. If I’d thought 
more about it I’d have ridden one of them 
myself and left you Johnny — and the old 
habit! Glad to see you’re not so cross as you 
were, dearie. After a time you’ll learn that 
grandma can still be trusted in some matters. 
There. How do I look? Is the jacket very 
loose in the back? Is my hat on straight? 
Please, take off the veil. That will catch in 
my spectacles and blind me.” 

Always erect, though so frail, the gentle- 
woman stood up before the mirror and sur- 
veyed herself with the critical enjoyment of a 
girl. Almost girlish she seemed, if one for- 
got the wrinkles and gray hair, and the very 
donning of the costume once so familiar and 
so dear, appeared to have taken many years 
from her age. Though she would not have 
admitted it, she was greatly excited and some- 
what doubtful concerning the issue of her ad- 
venture. Indeed, just at that last moment, 
she was almost minded to give it up; but a 
deeper motive than her own health or amuse- 
ment was in her attempt and she would not 
easily forget that. 


28 o an honor girl 

“ Now, Edna, kiss me good-bye. Or will 
you go down with me to the start ? ” 

“Grandma, how pretty you look! Your 
cheeks are pink, your eyes brighter than the 
spectacles before them, and you are certainly 
straighter than I am. Grandma sweet, Em 
proud of you and if you’re bent on breaking 
your neck I admire you for doing it in so be- 
coming a fashion. But, dear, seriously, have 
you thought how the townsfolk will stare and 
gossip ? ” 

If anything had been needed to clinch 
Madam Merton’s decision it was this argu- 
ment, and Edna had unwittingly stumbled on 
the one thing she would, maybe, have better 
left unsaid. The lady’s head went up still 
higher and the color deepened in her face. 
With a flash of her eyes, she retorted: 

“ Since when have I — I, gauged my actions 
by Warden gossip? Hm-m. Are you com- 
ing down ? ” Then she gathered her skirt 
over her arm and departed. 

Edna followed and stood by while the ven- 
erable horsewoman was swung up into her 
saddle and could but marvel at the ease with 
which she bore herself. 


CONCERNING MADAM 281 

“ Ah ! this is good. Good. I like it. How 
silly I have been to debar myself so much en- 
joyment all these years, simply because I was 
a grandmother and felt it undignified. Child, 
after this you shall have my society on your 
rides. How will you like that? There. 
Good-bye. Don’t worry. Nugent will have 
luncheon with us when we come back. Tell 
cook to make it a little heartier than ordinary, 
please, for we should bring back good appe- 
tites.” 

They rode away, Madam in gay spirits, 
Nugent feeling a grave responsibility, yet still 
delighted, and the girl watched them with 
mingled anxiety and amusement. When they 
were out of sight she went back into the house 
and ordered a meal as substantial as the boy’s 
usual midday one which she suspected he had 
gone without to suit her grandmother’s con- 
venience. 

Also, it was the sight of this odd pair of 
equestrians which caused Mr. Barnard’s ejacu- 
lation: “Look out the window, quick!” 

The same sight made many Wardenites 
stare and smile, and the cheeks of both 
Madam and her escort glowed, as they rode 


282 


AN HONOR GIRL 


slowly through the streets — Doll’s pace admit- 
ting of no greater speed — and witnessed the 
astonishment they created. But they kept 
steadily upon their way and two hours later 
rode slowly back again, calm and wholly satis- 
fied. After that, on many pleasant mornings, 
they repeated the ride and their satisfaction 
deepened. The Spring proved to be all and 
more than Madam Merton anticipated, and 
the motive which had prompted her to the 
undertaking was confirmed. Each day, as 
they returned, there swung from Nugent’s 
saddle-bow a little cask of the precious water, 
and people wondered what it contained. 
Wondering set them to prying, and prying to 
trespassing; and before long not only Madam 
Merton, but many other Wardenites were 
drinking water from the Yellow Spring, car- 
rying it away in casks and demijohns, and 
doing their utmost to make public what Nu- 
gent had hoped, for the present, to keep 
secret. 

“ Sheep ! All they wanted was a leader to 
jump over the wall, then all the rest would 
follow ! ” said Madam Merton, when the mat- 
ter was reported to her. But she was disturbed; 


CONCERNING MADAM 283 

and meant to take steps for protecting her 
young escort’s interests as she understood 
them. Like many another, however, she post- 
poned the matter and, unfortunately, it 
seemed, for all concerned. 

One evening, the last the Barnards were to 
pass in the old home, Nugent returned to it, 
furiously angry, and began making frantic re- 
quests of Amy. 

“ Come upstairs with me, or out of doors, 
or anywhere that we can talk,” he went on. 
“ I — I’m so mad I can scarcely speak ! Hurry, 
please.” 

The sister hurried, indeed, for rarely had 
she seen even her quick-tempered brother in 
such a state; and when they had gained the 
privacy of the now dismantled “ den,” he burst 
forth : 

“ Amy, we’re ruined ! Ruined ! ” 

“ Why — I thought everybody knew that.” 

“Oh! you needn’t take it so calm. ’Tisn’t 
the old failure or any of that business. It’s 
the Spring. My own Yellow Spring.” 

“What has happened to that? Is it dried 
up? ” 

“ Dried up ! nobody could dry it up, though 


AN HONOR GIRL 


284 

somebody is doing his utmost to do so. 
They’re selling it, Amy! Selling the water 
from my own property, without leave or 
license; and laugh in my face when I threaten 
to punish them.” 

Though the girl had never been as sanguine 
as he about the “ fortune ” to be evolved from 
the patch of mountain land she had still grown 
to share more in his faith concerning it than 
she had herself fully realized. The “ for- 
tune ” had seemed possible but extremely dis- 
tant, save whenever she was listening to her 
brother’s arguments. Now, it seemed to have 
been an accomplished fact which was taken 
from them at their most urgent need. She 
grew cold and downhearted, but finally roused 
herself to ask of the boy, who was striding 
about the little room in a distracted manner 
and uttering all sorts of dire and useless 
threats against an unknown enemy. 

“ Who is selling it, Nugent? ” 

“ Druggist Kemp. The first thing I saw 
when I came into town to-night was his window 
full of advertisements of the Spring, and a row 
of bottles of the water disposed for sale. I 
rushed in and demanded what he meant by 


CONCERNING MADAM 285 

such actions, and he sneered and laughed. 
Said lawyer Drayton had told him he was 
‘ perfectly right in getting and selling the stuff 
if he wanted to. One man had as much right 
to it as another.’ Oh, Amy! what shall I do? 
What shall I do! I saw in that the way to 
care for us all.” 

Amy was greatly distressed by her brother’s 
disappointment. She had herself come to feel 
that misfortunes were the present lot of the 
family, and to seek in each fresh one its 
peculiar and helpful lesson. She was swift 
now to catch a ray of comfort and suggested : 

“ Go to Madam Merton, laddie. She’s been 
your stanch friend all the way through and 
must be wise. She’s been all over the world 
and seen how such things are managed. She’ll 
know how to stop this stealing, if it is 
stealing. I confess I don’t know but others do 
have the same right to the Spring as you claim, 
though I hope not. I hope not, and I hope, 
too, that you’ll soon be able to convince them 
of their mistake.” 

“ Oh, for a little money! For even that 
which farmer Growden honestly owes me for 
finding the colts.” 


286 


AN HONOR GIRL 


“ Go to dear old Madam, Nugent. Ask 
her.” 

“ I meant to have stayed here, this last even- 
ing. Will you explain to my mother that it’s 
not mere foolishness which sends me out 
again ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed. Fll make all that right.” 

So Nugent went, losing something of his 
anger and excitement by the way; but, on ar- 
riving at Merton House, to find his old friend 
inaccessible. Two doctors’ phaetons stood be- 
fore the entrance, and the answer to his in- 
quiry was: 

“ Nobody can see her now. She is very ill. 
She is like to die.” 


CHAPTER XX 


FARMER GROWDEN'S OFFER 

There began then the hardest year which 
the Barnards had ever known. A year which 
taxed Amy’s courage to the utmost, yet re- 
sulted in strengthening and deepening it, and 
in confirming her reliance upon a higher than 
mortal Power. A year saw Nugent still toil- 
ing as a farmer’s apprentice and winning his 
way into the confidence of his employer, and 
even into what was more difficult still his lib- 
erality. 

When another spring had come round the 
old man sent for his young assistant to come 
into his office, and made him an offer. 

“ You’ve been here about two years now, 
Barnard, and have developed from a foolish 
boy into a sensible sort of fellow. I don’t take 
any stock in that chemistry business of yours, 
and advise you to give up dabbling in danger- 
ous stuff. I don’t like it up there in your shed- 
287 


288 AN HONOR GIRL 

room. You’re liable to an explosion any 
time.” 

“ I’m careful, Mr. Growden. There’s no 
danger. My apparatus is so limited I can’t do 
much. If I had the money — sir, don’t you 
think you can pay me that reward yet? ” 

“ Don’t trot out that old subject. We’ve 
worn it out. I didn’t send for you to be an- 
noyed, young man.” 

“ No, of course not. Maybe you’d kindly 
explain why you did send. I was getting 
ready to plow that south field for fodder corn. 
Thought I would go over it twice and break 
the ground up deep. Shall I ? ” 

“ Yes, yes. When I’ve done with you. 
You’ll make a first-class farmer if you don’t 
get too foolish over outside matters. I — well, 
you know, I’m laid up pretty close.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Growden, but I hope you’ll soon 
get better.” 

“ Hope it, do you? Mean it? ” 

“ Surely. I’m not a heathen. I don’t like 
to see anybody suffer.” 

“ Humph ! Flattering. Don’t pretend to 
any over-affection for me, eh ? ” 

“ N — no, sir,” stammered the other. 


FARMER GROVVDEN’S OFFER 289 

“ Glad of it. Hate liars, and you’d be one 
if you said you cared a stack of corn for me. 
That’s all right. I like your honesty. You 
come of good stock, if unfortunate just now. 
Well, the long and short of it is, I’ve made up 
my mind to offer you a share in my business. 
Instead of wages to pay you a due proportion 
of the profits. You’ve kept a close eye to af- 
fairs even as a ‘ hand,’ and I don’t believe ever 
cheated me a stiver. I’ve paid you thirty dol- 
lars a month and ‘ found ’ for this last year. 
I’ll give you five hundred for the next, with 
same board and accommodations. You to 
look out sharp for our mutual interests, and I 
to give you one-quarter of what you make, 
over and above the amount I’ve cleared from 
the place in the past. What say ? ” 

Nugent hesitated. The offer was, of course, 
a pretty fair one, but he had other plans in his 
head, and did not like to commit himself so 
hastily. 

“ May I take a week to consider it, Mr. 
Growden ? ” 

“ Take the rest of your natural life, for all 
I care,” answered the old gentleman testily. 
“ But you’re a fool if you don’t snap me up. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


290 

I may withdraw my offer, if I happen to get 
over this attack of rheumatism; or make it to 
somebody else. Hm-m. Hm-m.” 

“ I wish you would try my Spring water. I 
know it would help you .” 

“ Helped Madam Merton, didn’t it ! ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Growden, it did. It wasn’t the 
fault of the Spring nor her horseback exercise 
that she contracted pneumonia. That came 
from too much house-cleaning. She felt so 
well and energetic she attempted to examine 
some old trunks of stuff, in a hot attic. Then 
when she was over-heated, sat by an open win- 
dow to cool off, and it was natural she should 
be ill. At her age it went hard with her, but 
she’s all right again. I hope to call upon her 
soon.” 

“ Was sick all last summer, wasn’t she? 
Got sent off down to Florida, didn’t she ? ” 

“ Yes. Has been there until now, but my 
sister had a visit from Edna yesterday, 
and they’ve come home again for the sea- 
son.” 

“ That woman is a sharp one for business ; 
though I never did understand why she bought 
up your old place and the mortgages. She’s 


FARMER GROWDEN’S OFFER 


291 

more real estate in Warden now than any 
other person here. A woman, too/' 

“ She has been successful with it, I presume, 
and that may be the only form of business she 
understands. I’m glad our old home fell into 
her hands, though, for she’s left it untouched, 
and won’t even rent it, I hear. Indeed, she 
had Edna tell my mother that everything in 
the house was to be left, and would be safe 
till she needed it. Then she would notify us 
to remove the goods.” 

“ You didn’t take much to old John’s Island, 
then?” 

“Not much. Merely enough to meet actual 
needs.” 

“ Shall you go back there again this sum- 
mer?” 

Nugent wondered at this cross-examination, 
but replied respectfully : 

“ That I cannot say, Mr. Growden. Uncle 
John wants us to, but it is rather inconvenient 
for my father and sister. He has to be in town 
so early in the morning, and her customers 
can’t well cross to the Island. I rather think 
we’ll stay in the little cottage where we’ve been 
all winter. Shall I go, sir ? ” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


292 

“ What’s your confounded hurry? If you’re 
going to be a partner, you can take things a 
trifle easier. I worked hard enough myself 
when I was able, but I’m not going to see 
another man kill himself if I can help it. 
You’re young. You mustn’t overdo.” 

Nugent’s amazement was plain to see, and 
the old farmer resented it. 

“ Pshaw, boy ! I’m not half as hard as I’m 
painted. Sit down. Sit down. And say, I’ll 
try that Spring water if you’ll haul me a keg.” 

“Will you? I’m glad of that. I know it 
will help you.” 

“ That’s a strong statement.” 

“ It’s an honest one.” 

“ Listen to me. You thought I was pesky 
mean about that reward, didn’t you ? ” 

The color which rushed to Nugent’s tanned 
face was sufficient reply, and the questioner 
laughed heartily at the lad’s confusion. 

“ That’s all right. I knew you did. I 
meant you should. You’d have been a sawney 
if you hadn’t. But young man, that was my 
test of you. One of ’em. If you’d taken fool’s 
advice and gone to law with me, or if you 
hadn’t been fair and willing to divide with 


FARMER GROWDEN’S OFFER 


293 

those worthless Babcocks, I’d have wormed 
out of paying it in some way. There are 
plenty of loopholes any pettifogging lawyer 
can show a man who wants to crawl through 
them to escape his debts. As it was — here’s 
a check for the whole amount, with interest 
at six per cent. I made it out a week ago, and 
you’d best get it cashed this morning. It’s 
never a good plan to keep a check on hand. 
The giver might fail, you know,” and the 
farmer allowed himself a contented chuckle at 
Nugent’s surprise and the trick he had played 
him. 

As for the lad himself he was too astonished 
to believe his own eyes. His ears had already 
amazed him by the messages they had con- 
veyed to his mind, but he had long ago given 
up expecting this money. He sat on the stoop 
settee, turning the paper over in his fingers, 
and regarding it as if it might be a hoax. 

“Oh! it’s all right. Anybody in Warden 
will cash it for you the moment you present it. 
I’m good for a few hundreds yet, I fancy.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Growden ; and I beg your 
pardon for the hard thoughts I’ve had about 
you. I am ashamed of myself now. I am, in- 


AN HONOR GIRL 


294 

deed. And thank you for that other part — 
about the partnership.” 

“ No cause for shame. Your notion was 
natural. I’d have had the same. But one 
more word about the partnership. I’m a 
lonely old man, you know.” 

“ Sometimes I’ve fancied so.” 

“ This is a big, nice house.” 

“ Very nice, Mr. Growden.” 

“ I’d like to have it used now by somebody 
else than a gouty, grudging old man. I wish 
your folks would come out here and live here 
this summer. It would be handy for you, and 
if they’d let me board with them, maybe I’d 
gain strength. It’s hard work to get a decent 
meal of victuals where there’s only a hired wo- 
man at the head, and — maybe, too, I’ve not 
been over-liberal. But I hate waste. It’s 
wicked. Yet, if they’d come, I’d do my full 
part. They shouldn’t find me as ‘ near ’ as I’m 
reckoned. What do you think? ” 

“ I think it would be very pleasant, on some 
accounts. On others ” 

“ Name ’em.” 

“ Father’s being only a clerk now, and in a 
strange new store, he would have to live 


FARMER GROWDEN’S OFFER 295 

nearer his business. As for Amy, the same 
reason holds good as does about the Island.” 

“ I’ve heard about her. Doesn’t dress-make, 
but draws patterns for other women to dress- 
make after. Right ? ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Growden.” 

“Does she earn her salt at it?” 

“ Much more than her salt, sir. She is do- 
ing well.” 

“ Humph. All the Warden ‘ four hundred ’ 
patronize her, I’m told. They ought to pay 
her well.” 

“ They do, and their own selfishness, or 
pride, is a good thing for her. They want to 
keep her designs exclusively for themselves, so 
have set a price on her drawings that keeps 
them beyond the reach of what they are 
pleased to call ‘ common folks.’ ” 

“ Shucks ! The world’s full of fools, isn’t 
it?” 

“ Moderately full, I fancy.” 

“ It’s a pity. I mean it’s a pity she should 
have to do such things when she was so smart 
at her books. Hope it won’t spoil her and 
make her sour or bitter.” 

Nugent threw back his head and laughed. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


296 

“ Amy sour or bitter? Why, sir, that’s im- 
possible. She’s the sunniest, happiest girl in 
the world. Every trouble that comes to her, or 
any of us, she takes and turns about so that 
she can see its every side; and, somehow or 
other, she manages to find a bright and 
strengthening one to everything. I don’t 
know what education, higher education, might 
have made of her, but I do know that the vol- 
untary giving it up, and her unselfish devotion 
to others, is making her a splendid girl. Will 
make her the noblest of women.” 

The farmer leaned back in his chair, and 
studied the lad’s face curiously. At last he re- 
marked : 

“ Boy, you do me proud. A fellow that can 
think and speak so about his sister can’t be 
anything but all right.” 

“ ’Tisn’t every brother has a sister like mine. 
All last winter, despite the little time she had 
to spare, and the less money, she managed to 
have a room ready for me and my few friends, 
once a fortnight, with a nice little spread to 
finish off the evening. She didn’t invite com- 
pany for herself, though, I noticed. Oh ! I tell 
you, our Amy is a girl worth working for, 


FARMER GROWDEN’S OFFER 


297 

and I’ll see her at the top yet, before I’ve 
done.” 

There Nugent paused rather suddenly, and 
remarked : 

“ Beg pardon, sir. I didn’t mean to get 
talking so free about my own affairs. Shall I 
start plowing that field now ? ” 

“ Yes. And as you plow, keep thinking 
over what I proposed.” 

Nugent rose, lifted his hat — a little courtesy 
he never failed to show his employer, but one 
so trivial that most of the other employees on 
the farm neglected — and walked away. The 
lonely old man watched him with keen interest 
and considerable anxiety. He had supposed 
that his partnership offer would have been 
greedily accepted by the lad, young to be 
so trusted; yet, since it was not, the eager- 
ness and desire were now all on his own 
part. 

“ What if he should leave me? He’s a 
likely lad, all the other men take to him, and 
this big farm would seem rather empty with- 
out him. Well, I hope he’ll stay; and I’ll try 
that Spring water of his if that will please him. 
Hello! Yonder’s that Merton girl coming. 


298 AN honor girl 

What for, I wonder? No good, I doubt. If 
that old grandmother of hers is going to inter- 
fere with my plans about Nugent I’ll teach her 
a lesson. I’m going to keep that fellow on 
this farm if — if it takes another hundred dol- 
lars! Well, good-morning, miss.” 

Edna brought her runabout to a stop before 
the familiar porch, with the equally familiar 
figure in the arm-chair, bowed pleasantly, and 
inquired : 

“ Can I see Nugent Barnard? ” 

“ I suppose you can, if you want to. What 
for? ” said Mr. Growden rather testily. 

“ A little matter of business between my 
grandmother and himself.” 

“ How is the old lady? ” 

“ Very well, indeed, thank you. Remark- 
ably well, in fact,” answered the girl, growing 
resentful on her own part. She hated to hear 
the Madam spoken of as “ old,” and was proud 
of an activity so strongly in contrast with the 
invalidism of the past. 

“ I hope she isn’t going to interfere with 
that boy’s work as she did last year.” 

“ I thought she repaid you, at a premium, 
for his time ? ” 


FARMER GROWDEN’S OFFER 299 

“ What if she did ? Money isn’t every- 
thing.” 

“Oh! isn’t it? Well, please, when may I 
see him? ” 

Mr. Growden blew his whistle and a man 
came from the stable to attend him. 

“ Send the young boss around here, Mar- 
tin.” 

The man grinned and departed. “ Boss ” 
was a nickname the “ hands ” had themselves 
bestowed upon young Barnard, because of his 
masterful ways and decided opinions; but he 
did not yet know how near to being a fact the 
sobriquet had now become. 

Edna pricked up her ears. Something 
dashed her overflowing spirits, which had set 
her feet to tapping the floor of the runabout, 
and her lips to smiling. She, too, was the 
bearer of good news and impatient to im- 
part it. 

“ What did you call Nugent, Mr. Grow- 
den ? ” 

“ The ‘ young boss.’ He’s become a partner 
in my business.” 

“ He — has ! ” cried Edna, in dismay, as 
Nugent returned to the spot. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE WAY IT ENDED 

“ Nugent, grandmother wishes to see you. 
Please get in and ride home with me.” 

“ I — Eve started three times to plow a field 
that needs it. Is it important that I should go 
this morning, Edna? Of course, you under- 
stand, I should be only too happy if I were a 
free agent.” 

“ Mr. Growden knows you’re coming ; don’t 
you, Mr. Growden ? ” 

“ I suppose he’s his own master, in part, 
now, Miss Merton. But a field ” 

“ Beg pardon, but the case is urgent. A 
deal more urgent than all the plowed or un- 
plowed fields on your whole farm. Get in, 
boy.” 

Nugent glanced toward his employer, who 
nodded curtly. He was too wise on his own 
personal account to quarrel with so good a 
customer as Madam Merton, and he also meant 


300 


THE WAY IT ENDED 


301 

that the youth should feel something of the 
freedom that would be his if he accepted the 
partnership offer. 

So the lad took his seat, and Johnny 
whisked the little vehicle out of the grounds. 
Neither spoke till they were on the highroad 
and Johnny had been touched to his smartest 
pace. Then demanded Edna: 

“Why don’t you ask what’s wanted ? ” 

“ I’ve no need. You’re sure to tell without 
asking.” 

“ Oh, you disagreeable Cat! ” 

“ Thank you.” 

“ Don’t you see I’m just quivering to tell 
you?” 

“ Oh, yes. That’s plain enough.” 

“ Amy’s at our house. She’s waiting with 
grandma sweet. She is the sweetest, bless- 
edest, dearest, nicest grandmother in the 
world.” 

“ I agree with you. I’m so glad she is at 
home again, and so well.” 

“ That’s decent of you. Don’t you wonder 
why Amy is idling? ” 

“ I hope that Amy will be able to idle quite 
often after this.” 


AN HONOR GIRL 


302 

Edna flashed a penetrating, disappointed 
glance into her companion’s face. 

“ What do you mean ? What do you know ? 
Who’s been telling ? ” 

“ What do you mean, yourself ? What I 
mean is that I’ve just been offered a partner- 
ship in the farming business, at considerable 
of a rise from my former wages. Also, — see 
this ? ” And he held out for her inspection the 
check Mr. Growden had given him. 

“ At last!” 

“ At last.” 

“ A case of the unexpected. But, pshaw ! 
only half of that is yours, if you’re as quixotic 
as you once were. Half of it will go to those 
miserable Babcocks.” 

“ Since they are miserable all the greater 
reason that it should.” 

“ Never mind. You can afford to be gen- 
erous.” 

“ I fear I can’t agree with you, though I 
hope I can always afford to be just.” 

“ You never do agree with me. You’d be 
horribly tame if you began. I wish you’d ask 
me my secret.” 

“What is your secret, Edna?” 


THE WAY IT ENDED 


303 

“ I couldn’t tell. It isn’t mine. It’s grand- 
ma’s and Amy’s. I fancy they’ll think I’m a 
long time on the road. One thing I know: 
you’ll never be a farmer. Not just plain 
farmer.” 

“ That’s just what I’m making up my mind 
to be.” 

“ You may unmake it, then. You are bound 
to be a merchant. A great, new, progressive 
sort of merchant. There’s to be a new ‘ Bar- 
nard’s ’ in Warden, and But I can’t tell 

my secret ! ” 

“ You can talk a lot of nonsense.” 

“ You haven’t improved in politeness. I’m 
offended.” 

But the merry smile upon her eager, earnest 
face belied her words. The real truth was that 
she feared she should, indeed, reveal a secret 
which her grandmother had in store for the 
bewildered listener. So she lapsed into silence, 
and thus continued until they reached Merton 
House and the presence of its mistress, who 
awaited her visitor with a beaming smile, that 
was reflected in Amy’s own fair face, as she 
sprang up to greet her brother with a more 
than usually affectionate kiss. 


AN HONOR GIRL 


304 

“ What’s the matter with you all this morn- 
ing, dear Madam? You look brimful of mys- 
tery, and Edna has been so all along the way. 
Amy is excited and radiant. What’s up? ” 

“ Nugent,” began the old gentlewoman, as 
quietly as she could. “ That Yellow Spring 
water cured my rheumatism.” 

“ So I believe.” 

“ It’s cured ever so many more, right here 
in Warden.” 

The lad’s face darkened. He was not sorry, 
of course, that people should be helped by the 
water in which he had such implicit faith ; but 
he had never forgiven druggist Kemp for his 
unwarranted sale of it. 

“ Don’t look so black, laddie. That thief 
was advertising your wares for you, gratui- 
tously, and in the widest possible manner. He 
saved you a good many hundreds of dollars in 
printer’s ink, and he — well, he saved Neddy 
from seeing her old lady’s picture in the backs 
of magazines.” 

“ Now, grandma, how did you know I 
dreaded that?” 

“ Have you forgotten that you told me? I 
haven’t. See here, my boy.” 



$ £>*vt. /son. 


' Oh, Madam, you have done all this for me ! ” cried the lad. 
Page 305. 



THE WAY IT ENDED 


305 

She held a paper towards Nugent, and bade 
him read it attentively. It was of legal form, 
and rather confusing to him who would have 
understood a chemical formula far easier. So 
she took pity on his perplexity, and her own 
impatience, and explained: 

“ This document completely protects your 
interests in the Spring which, unknown to you, 
is already becoming famous. During the win- 
ter an agent of mine has been quietly prepar- 
ing the market for its reception. I have paid 
out a good sum in advertising and so on, all of 
which I expect to receive from you out of the 
proceeds of your healing waters. That water 
will make you rich, more than rich.” 

“ Oh, Madam, you have done all this for 
me ! ” cried the lad, overcome by his grati- 
tude. 

“ Not a bit of it. That is, not wholly. I’ve 
done it because I’ve felt its benefits myself, and 
wished to extend them to all sufferers. So 
much for you. Now for Amy, and the rest. 
You know that I bought your home? ” 

“ Yes, Madam.” 

“ Did you know that I also bought the store 
when it was closed to the public? ’* 


AN HONOR GIRL 


306 

“ I heard so.” 

“ I did. I like to dabble in real estate. I 
should have done something with the property 
but for my year of unexpected illness and ab- 
sence. Now, I’m going to reopen it. It is to 
be ‘ spruced ’ up with fresh paint, new fixtures, 
and new goods. A complete stock of perfectly 
reliable stuff, such as ‘ Barnard’s,’ only ‘ Bar- 
nard’s,’ kept, here in Warden. Amy, there, 
has a letter from me to your father asking him 
if he will resign the clerkship he was brave 
enough to take, small though it was, and be- 
come my manager in the concern, at a liberal 
salary, until such time as you shall be able to 
buy back the whole business.” 

She paused for breath, and Amy hugged her 
brother till he nearly choked. 

“ Oh ! did you ever know such a friend as 
Madam is, laddie? How came we to possess 
such an one ! ” 

The old lady drew the girl toward her, and 
kissed her tearful face. 

“ How could you help having such, my little 
Amy? One and all, but most of all, my 
‘ honor girl,’ have you taught the world which 
knows you, a brave and noble lesson. The 


THE WAY IT ENDED 


307 

way you have met and fought your troubles, 
your undaunted faith in God, the sweetness of 
temper and nature which you have kept 
through all ; but, higher still, the filial love you 
have shown, are worth more than they have 
won. It was you, my Amy, that changed 
Neddy, here, from a thoughtless, careless girl 
of fashion, into a granddaughter one may be 
proud of.” 

They were a deeply moved and rather tear- 
ful group when the old lady ceased speaking; 
and to avert what she called a “ downpour,” 
Edna took up the theme. 

“ Now, grandma sweet, you’ve had your 
say, and left out one of the biggest things. 
I’m glad you did, because I may be able to do 
a little talking myself. An unusual circum- 
stance, you all know. Well, folks, listen to me. 
There is no question of where you Barnards 
are to live hereafter. You are to move straight 
back into your old, old home, which grandma 
has purposely left empty till you could do so. 
Everything is to be as it used to be, without 
any of the old worries. There’s to be a Spring 
House built on the mountain, and Nugent is to 
superintend the packing and shipping of his. 


308 AN honor girl 

wonderful waters. When not doing that he is 
to be his father’s first aid in the business of 
selling good goods to unworthy Wardenites. 
Amy and I are to continue our respective 
mothers’ housekeepers, yet to have the best of 
masters and go on with our higher education 
— out of books — along with that out of life. 
Oh! isn’t it fine? Isn’t it fine! And isn’t it 
all the doings of my precious ‘ honor girl ’ ? 
For without her, master farmer, you’d never 
have had the chemistry lessons that helped you 
to — Fame and Fortune ! Hurrah ! ” 

“ Neddy! Neddy! you’re a darling child, but 
you’re a wild one, and always will be.” 

“ Grandmother dear, it — it runs in the fam- 
ily!” 

" Irreverent ! But I forgive you. People 
as happy as we are this morning are scarcely 
responsible for all their words.” 

“ And, grandma sweet, lest I should say 
some further disrespectful thing, just com- 
mand me, will you, to take my two friends 
home in the runabout with their load of good 
news? It’s so big and bouncing it will surely 
take at least three to carry it.” 

" Maybe, child, they’d rather carry it be- 


THE WAY IT ENDED 


309 

tween them. Remember, ‘ the stranger inter- 
meddleth not/ ” 

“ Oh ! Madam Merton ! As if there were 
any strangers here ! Strangers ? I think there 
are none even in all the world ; it is so full, so 
full, of generous and beautiful souls. From 
old John-fisherman up to you, through a 
gamut of richness and sweetness, we’ve been 
led along the sunniest, brightest way. God 
bless you, Madam. God bless everybody ! ” 

“ Amen,” said the old gentlewoman rever- 
ently. Then she nodded to her grandchild, and 
watched the radiant trio set forth upon their 
happy mission. 


THE END 




























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JUL 30 1904 





